Endlessly
by Silver.Anomie
Summary: Saoirse is sent to Morganville to find out its deepest secrets and the quickest way to do it is through a certain mad scientist.  It would be easy- if only he wasn't so darn charming...  Myrnin/Oc, M for later chapters.
1. Old Beginnings

**1**

Who creates a vampire town in such a sunny place as _Texas?_ That was the thought running through Saoirse's mind as she passed through the magical, or whatever it was, barrier into Morganville. Something, somewhere just recorded her entrance and Saoirse shuddered, it was kind of creepy. Morganville smelt dusty and coppery, like old dried blood. The clear blue sky let the sun shine strong and hot on her pale skin through her pathetically pale blue tinted windows. She adjusted her Vivienne Westwood sunglasses to block out as much as she could.

The streets were as worn and as tired as the few people she drove past. They all kept their heads down, power walking to their destinations. Very different from London, where Saoirse was almost living these days. People were always chatting, laughing, even crying- not running (well, from _her_, it wasn't unusual for people to be running from muggers.)

A few younger people dared hushed comments as she pulled her car over. She wasn't surprised, really, she was starting to think her purple convertible didn't exactly fit in with Morganville's look- even with the hood up.

Despite the fact she hadn't been to the town before, she knew the layout of Morganville perfectly. She'd done her research, so she knew the next corner she turned would lead her to Common Grounds, the 'it' coffee place owned by Oliver. Saoirse smirked as she pulled the keys from the ignition and hopped out. It had been a few decades since she'd seen Oliver, she sort of missed his company. Sort of.

He could be an ass when he wanted to be.

She walked around the corner of a grey building and then slipped into the café, the bell _tinging_ as she went. It was bustling, filled with college students and business assistants out for their bosses' hourly caffeine fix. Saoirse hadn't thought Oliver would actually be _working_ in the café, but there he was, wearing his obviously fake smile and a tie dye tshirt. The picture of Oliver as a peace loving hippy was too priceless- she pulled her iPhone from her Guess jeans pocket and snapped a picture of him. She was going to print it and keep it _forever_.

There was a small queue at the counter and Saoirse stood at the back, pulling her sun hat down a bit further to conceal herself. When she reached the top Oliver began, "Hey what can I g-"

She pulled off her glasses, "Surprise!"

Oliver's jaw dropped, just a little, in shock. But he quickly recovered, plastering on his hippy smile, "Saoirse. Its been a while. What brings you to town?"

There was something much deeper than the light-hearted way he spoke. He really wanted to know why she was there, if it was a threat to him or not- so typically Oliver.

"Oh you know, just...business..." she said cryptically just to annoy him.

His jaw tightened slightly, "lets talk in my office?"

Saoirse didn't reply, just hopped over the marble counter and followed him, shouting over her shoulder to the teen boy now pulling the expresso shots, "Oh! I'll have a cinnamon latte please! Don't cheap out on the cinnamon!"

Oliver's faux hippy fashion didn't extend to his office, its walls as bland and an boring as a funeral home's. The neutral carpet was eerily perfect though, as if it had just been rolled out from the plastic packaging. Everything was neat and organised and shiny.

_So_ Oliver.

He pulled out a seat for her, very gentleman like. But then he had always been a gentleman, when it suited him.

Saoirse however, was not a gentlewoman, and rolled her eyes at his patronisation but sat anyway out of the vague sense of politeness she held onto these days.

"So," he said, sitting at the opposite side of his desk, "how have you been?"

Saoirse laughed, full and hard. Her whole life, Oliver had never, ever, asked how she was. If she was good, good. If she wasn't, well that was her own problem in Oliver's mind.

"Don't play games Oliver, you know I hate politics. Just say what you want to say."

He shrugged, "I want to know why you are here."

"I wasn't lying when I said business. I am simply here as a messenger, and I have a message for Amelie." She tried and failed at keeping the bitterness from her voice.

Oliver, naturally, picked up on it, "You know Amelie? You never told me you'd met her... she never mentioned you."

"I met you a long time after I'd met Amelie. We didn't know each other that well. We met through Myrnin and then..." she trailed off, not wanting to think of that memory.

Oliver's eyebrows rose in shock, "You know Myrnin? I see there is much I never found out about you."

"Well, you were never one for talking and I was never one for talking about either of them so..."

Oliver stared at her for a long time, trying to figure something out, in the end he said, "Well. What is the message? I can pass it to Amelie."

"Nope. Bosses orders, message goes straight to Amelie. You can be there, though, if you want."

"How kind of you," his voiced dripped of sarcasm, "well I have better things to do than be your tour guide."

She pouted, "Pleasseee?"

* * *

><p>Claire watched in interest when a vampire she didn't know entered Common Grounds. Well, she assumed that the deathly pallor was due to her vampirism, but she wore it well, with a fashionable sunhat and a designer outfit that would make Monica jealous- like she'd stepped right out of pages of a fashion magazine. She watched the girl (woman? She looked as though she was in her early twenties), snap a picture of Oliver on her iPhone and grin.<p>

Yep, definitely a vamp. No human 'in the know' in Morganville would ever dare to do such a thing.

Claire was pretty sure that she was new, she had never seen her before and she wasn't very conspicuous. Plus Oliver called her 'Saoirse', and that wasn't one of the names on Claire's vampire symbols list. She was completely eavesdropping but pretending to look at her laptop screen and sipping on her mocha. The newbie had a strange accent, slightly Scottish, or Irish? She couldn't be sure, it wasn't very strong.

Well, this was news. So far in Claire's experience, there had never been just a peaceful new vampire coming to Morganville. Most had an agenda and it was usually dangerous. She sighed, downing the last of her mocha as Saoirse and Oliver slipped out the back, she was going to have to be careful. And she was going to have to do some research- in secret of course, vampires didn't like humans knowing their business. Maybe Myrnin would have something about her in his library she could sneak a peak at.

Speaking of which, she had a meeting with Myrnin, so she packed up her laptop and books and headed out into the sun.

* * *

><p>Amelie was hidden away in some huge, stone building in Founder's Square (or Vampville as Saoirse termed it), through a maze of dizzily similar corridors and doors, Oliver led the way, pushed open an ornate wooden door and nodded for Saoirse to enter.<p>

Amelie looked up from her stack of papers, her paper white hair and skin making her seem like a moving statue. Her mouth formed a small 'o'.

"Saoirse?"

"Ah. You remember my name. That's nice," Saoirse said, with a dry smile.

"I...well, we thought you were dead," Amelie admitted, regaining her cool.

Saoirse was confused. Dead? Technically, she was dead. But that hadn't been what Amelie meant. She'd disappeared, yes but she had never give any hint she had passed.

"Why would you think that?" She asked, unsure.

Amelie took her time considering her answer, which seriously pissed Saoirse off.

"Well, after _that unfortunate incident_, Myrnin spent a long time looking for you, he came across Pennywell who told him you'd died- that he'd killed you. He had your necklace."

Well that was just so...wrong. "No no no," Saoirse began, shaking her head, "I left and yes, I came across Pennywell. But _I _nearly killed _him._ After all he had been very...annoying in my past. Still, I didn't. I did throw my necklace at him though. How did he think he would get away with telling people I was dead? Vampires always pop up again sometime, he should have known."

Amelie nodded slightly, "Yes. Perhaps he said it just to anger Myrnin. It worked."

The room fell into silence for a moment. The other vampires were deadly still, pun intended. Amelie's guards lined the room in black suits trying to look as frightening as possible, it probably worked too, on humans but Saoirse and any other vampire could tell that in that room, they weren't the ones to fear.

Oliver was sitting on a chair next to Saoirse, who was still standing. She was much too agitated to sit.

"Well. Forget about all that. I didn't die, as you can see. I am here for business. Elliot has sent me to tell you that he has finally decided to except your offer of moving to Morganville. But I have some negotiations."

The pair talked for a long time, debating, arguing, listening until they'd finally agreed to some, sadly not all, agreements. It was deep into the night, the hour when the human world was asleep and the moon shone brightest, when they finally closed their discussions.

Saoirse was positively proud of herself for getting through the meeting without killing/trying to kill the annoying ice queen Amelie. She was so, so close to getting out in one piece when Amelie called her to a stop as she was about to slip through the door.

"Saoirse. About what happened that day, I apologise." Amelie said, stiffly but honestly. It should have meant something, Amelie wasn't really the type to apologise even if she was wrong, but to Saoirse it was evidence of her guilty conscience rather than a bid for forgiveness.

Saoirse whipped round, glaring, "That's nice, princess. But save it for someone who cares. You want Myrnin? Then have him, I care nothing for him any more, I suppose I should thank you for that, if you'd never shoved your tongue down his throat I'd probably still be stuck with that pathetic maniac." Saoirse turned and glided out, careful not to be too quick or too slow, lest she show her weakness. In a moment Oliver was at her side. She knew he wanted information, he was hovering like a fly over a dead carcass, buzzing to find out what she was talking about.

"Are you going to tell me?" He asked eventually, turning the keys in his car as she slipped in.

She sighed, rolled her eyes and answered, "Lets see. I fell for Myrnin, Myrnin turned me, I catch Myrnin and Amelie getting it on. I leave, that whole Pennywell mess up happens, I met you, you went...where ever you went. I lived my life elsewhere. There? That a good enough life history for you?"

Oliver stared at her with blank eyes, the type that were warning her she was pushing him over the edge. But he didn't, he knew what a betrayal that was. Vampire lovers are freakishly protective and possessive of each other, to cheat is unthinkable.

"That ...what do they say these days... sucks," he said.

Saoirse smiled despite herself. Oliver could be a hard ass, but when he wasn't feeling threatened, planning battles, plotting take overs and intimidating people, he could actually be... _nice._ To other vamps at least, Saoirse wasn't sure he'd show that side to the day-inclined. Oliver drove them back to Common Grounds where Saoirse had parked her car.

She cleared her throat when she got out and gave him an 'I'm so sweet and innocent so please don't say no' smile.

"What?" He asked, staring wearily.

"Well... I need a place to crash for a week or two..."She said casually.

"No." He said, turning to enter the café.

Saoirse pattered up beside him. "Oh, Oliver. That glare doesn't scare me. Deep down I know you're a caring, drugged up hippy. And caring, drugged up hippies like to live communally. I _was_ around in the 60's ya know."

He glared at her as though this time he might actually snap and try to kill her.

"It'll be like old times,"

He sighed, "No. Rent somewhere."

"I can't. Well, I mean, I don't wanna. I promise, you won't even notice I'm there. Plus, don't you want to keep an eye on me? Make sure I'm not running amok in your precious town?" She knew that would appeal to him, information is power and Oliver craved that above all else.

"Just the week."

_Score._

* * *

><p>Well, there you have it, chapter 1. I've written up to chapter 6, so I'll post the rest soon hopefully.<p>

I hope you liked it, sure, no Myrnin yet but he'll be arriving soon. If you would like to write a review, I would love to read one :) If you don't, that's okay too. Just no flames, or I'll set Bob on you ;D


	2. Youngsters

2

"So..." Claire began. Shane shot her a glance from his video game, Eve looked up from her magazine and Michael padded in from the kitchen, barefoot and yawning with his guitar in hand.

"Hm?" he asked.

"I think there's a new vamp in town." It was something she'd been meaning to tell them, and now was the first time they were all together.

Michael's eyebrows rose, "I haven't heard anything..."

Claire shrugged, "I think she only got here yesterday- I mean there haven't been any announcements for a welcoming party, has there?. I saw her in Common Grounds," she relayed everything she'd seen to them. Sadly her crazy vampire boss Myrnin had kept her busy all day and she hadn't had a check to have a nosy for info on the new girl.

"Great. Just what we need, another one." Shane sighed, dropping his now paused game controller on the floor. "Coke?" he asked, and Claire nodded.

"On a scale, 1 being Michael-like, and 10 being Oliver like, how scary is she?" Eve said, now pulling out a little pot of nail polish and coating her nails.

How was Claire meant to answer that? She hadn't seemed threatening, but then neither had Oliver when she'd first met him.

"Er...5? I don't know. She _looked_ like a-just-graduated college student. But you can never tell I guess..." Claire shrugged and opened the can of coke Shane sat in front of her.

"I'll ask around, see what I can find out," Michael said, standing to leave. "What did you say her name was again?"

"Saoirse." Claire repeated, it was an odd name, pronounced like 'sore- sha', one that Claire had never heard before.

"Right well, I'll be back later. Gotta practice for tomorrow." He kissed Eve softly on the lips and Claire noticed Eve's eyes darken and her mouth tug into a smile.

"Oh, for the gig. You'll do great, man. You always rock Common Grounds." Shane said, picking up his control again and nodded- all manly like- to Michael who returned the gesture.

Claire had to go to work. Usually she didn't mind, Myrnin knew so much that she was eager to learn, but she was tired and just wanted to crawl into bed with Shane and snuggle. But she didn't, denying herself the pleasure she just slipped on her shoes, grabbed her backpack and left for the lair.

* * *

><p>Morganville, as it turns out, is not just dry and sunny. Saoirse quickly discovered it was also devastatingly boring. Until she finished making her plans for Elliot, her almost boss, she was stuck in the drab town with apparently nothing to do.<p>

Oliver's home had looked shabby on the outside, like all the houses in Morganville, but it was technologically perfect on the inside. Saoirse knew it would be, Oliver liked to keep up with the times- no point getting left behind and not knowing what your enemy might attack you with. It was also as sleek and neat as a show home and Saoirse, who spilled a tiny bit of green oil paint on his wooden floor, had panicked and replaced the floor while he was out working the first day she stayed.

But she was all painted out. The usual blissful hum she got when a painting was completed was missing. Instead she felt dry and twitchy, so she'd went looking for something fun to do.

Stupid idea.

Nothing fun existed in Morganville.

She parked her car in the underground parking space at Founder's Square and then climbed the damp steps leading up into the light. Her designer sunglasses kept the light out of her eyes, not that it annoyed her much any more and she twisted her unruly red hair up with some chopsticks. The square was lined with cute and expensive boutiques and European cafés. If only there had been clouds she would have felt as thought she were back in London. She had a leisurely shop around (buying a cute vintage dress- vampires were usually pretty good when it came to vintage things) then headed for a café. The bell dinged as she entered, it was pitch black inside but she could see perfectly, and she hopped on one of the counter stools.

"Hello, sweetheart." The server smiled, all fangs, his eyes focusing much too long on her chest.

"Hello, pervy. My face is here," she pointed, "and I'd like a warmed O-neg with a shot of expresso, please."

The vampire scowled, his eyes darkening. He reached out to grab or slap her, but Saoirse reached over it, slamming it on the counter and stabbed right through the middle of it with her wooden hair stick.

"Really, service people these days. You'd think I'd asked you to cut off your hand." She grinned manically.

The server vamp yelped in pain and squirmed to get free, his other hand furiously trying to hit her. She just batted it away- he was too young and weak.

"Perhaps when you learn manners I'll remove it. In the meantime, is there someone who could get my drink?" She muttered irritably.

A young man slowly eased toward her. He had shaggy blonde hair and a calm expression on his face.

"Er, hey. I'm Michael,"

Wow, he was _young. _It had been a while since she'd met such a young vampire and Saoirse was shocked for a second.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Saoirse."

He smiled at her, it was nice and relaxed and somehow innocent, "none of my business, but maybe you should let him go? Those noises he is making are kinda annoying..."

Saoirse grinned, "think he's learned his lesson? He's yet to apologise..."

The vamp snarled at her but eventually mumbled a pathetic apology. She shook her head and pulled out her chopstick, "Really, was that so hard? Perhaps think twice -or even once- with your upstairs brain next time. If you even have one, which I doubt."

His hand was already healing over but he looked ready to kill.

"Err... I know a great blood bar a few blocks away, would you like to get a drink there?" Michael asked, clearly sensing the tension.

"I'm starting to get the feeling that I'm not getting a drink here, so yes, that would be lovely. Thank you." Saoirse hopped right off her stool and exited through the underground steps. The tunnels weren't completely unpleasant, just dull and damp and every little noise echoed loudly. When they reached the bar, Michael found them a booth and they ordered drinks. The problem with bars was that they tended to sell the blood cold, not Saoirse's favourite way, but it would do.

"So, are you new in town?" Michael asked.

"Yes, well just visiting," Saoirse replied, tapping her fingers on the edge of the table. She felt so... jumpy. She refused to put it down to the fact that a particular crazy vampire was so near. Closer than he'd been in centuries- and closer for her to kill, if she wanted to.

"Oh, where from?" He asked.

"Well, I'm living in London mostly. Though I do stay in Sweden with the Prince on the weekends. I'll have to move soon though, I've been there too long. You're a permanent Morganviller?" She said, trying to mask her unease with conversation.

"Yeah, but I'm new to...this," he waved his hand nonchalantly.

Saoirse smiled slightly, "yes, I can see that. I'm sorry for my behaviour back there. I suppose I shouldn't have taken it out on him...in public."

Michael stared as if not quite sure what to do with that.

"Anyway, what do you do for fun in this place?"

They talked for a long time. Sipping blood, and just relaxing. Michael seemed tense at first but he soon relaxed into the conversation. Saoirse found out a lot about his musical talents- he lit up when talking of that. She told him of her artistic talents, and the places she'd lived over the years of her long life. When it was starting to get dark, he excused himself and she watched him leave. She was just starting to lull her mind into some sort of order when her phone rang. She knew it was Elliot because the word 'Elliot' popped up on screen, and she almost hurled it across the room.

Instead she got up and walked outside, answering it.

"Yeah?"

His long, deep drawl replied, "Now, now, Saoirse. Is that anyway to talk to your _master?_" and he laughed, as if that was some hilarious joke.

"Whatever. Look, I talked to Amelie..." She explained their meeting, telling him what she'd won him.

"Good. Good little girl, if this keeps up I shall be seeing you very soon." She wanted to scream. Who was he to patronise her so?

"Then I'm free, right? I do this and you break that stupid bond and I can do whatever the fuck I want again?" Being locked up was not something Saoirse particularly enjoyed and Elliot was using that to the fullest. He'd caught her off guard, biting her and forming a blood bond between them. If done a particular way, a vampire biting another creates a power over them and any direct order he gave, Saoirse's body would carry out, whether her mind wanted to or not and she despised it with every cell in her body. It was inescapable. Only three things got rid of the bond -time, depending on how old the vampire was, it would fade eventually, killing the biter, which was definitely Saoirse's favourite idea but she'd yet to get close enough without being ordered to stop, or the last, and most pathetic, the bond could be transferred to another vampire. Okay, so that wasn't exactly getting rid of it.

Hers was beginning to crack though, little moments of defiance were starting to peep through- they both knew it. So Elliot had summoned all his control and sent her on his stupid quest to Morganville, before she broke free. Either way, they'd made a deal- she gets him a good position, some followers, and finds out the system that keeps Morganville running and he sets her free.

Simple.

"Yes, then you are free to do whatever useless things you did before," he sighed, hanging up without any other notice. Well, that suited her just fine. She abandoned her car, walking the rest of the way to Common Grounds.

The late evening lull meant there was barely any customers in the café so Saoirse scooted right up to were Oliver was standing. "I'm. Bored!"

He rolled his eyes, "You aren't a child. Entertain yourself."

She mimicked him childishly, then, "whatever."

The clock ticked by and they just stood there, watching the people drink and chat and read their books.

"Will you go see him?" Oliver said quietly.

Saoirse growled, "no. Why would I?" She knew Myrnin could be useful in her plans to rid herself of Elliot's grip, but she wasn't sure she could actually face him after so long.

"Because, eventually he will find out you are here and come looking. If you go to him, you can at least plan or surprise him."

That was a good idea, Saoirse had to admit, and she told Oliver so.

He smirked, "Of course."

"Quickly, before I change my mind, where is Myrnin at?"


	3. Hallucinogens

**3**

Myrnin, naturally, was in an underground lair. Top secret, of course, but Saoirse found it easily with Oliver's precise directions. She slipped down the dark alley, picked the lock, breaking it would be too loud, and tiptoed down a set of stairs. The end of the corridor led to an open door.

Saoirse stood silently in the doorway, Myrnin had his back to her. He was wearing black jeans under a white lab coat- well, white except the chemical coloured stains, and a pair of pink slippers. His dark hair was wavy and to his shoulders, as she remembered it and he held a book in his hand. He was muttering something.

Something tightened in Saoirse's chest and she took a deep breath- not for the air, but to calm herself. She _hated_ Myrnin for what he did, yet she felt so giddily nervous at the idea of facing him. But it all seemed to slip away as she caught a glance of the smooth pale skin on his hand. How elegant those fingers were, perfect in fact, long and thin, how long it had been since they'd softly caressed her skin- no touch had ever compared to his. All that pain though, all that betrayal, how could she just ignore it? Moments slipped by and Saoirse fought for some sort of decision. She didn't have to like him to get what she wanted from him.

"Fuck it," she whispered and Myrnin snapped around, freezing when he saw her.

"Hallucinating, I haven't done that since the cure...hmmm..." His brows knitted in interest.

"I'm not an hallucination," Saoirse said, exasperated.

"Of course, all the hallucinations say that- they all want to be real." Myrnin quipped.

Saoirse sighed and stepped toward him, planting a loud slap on his face. He didn't react for a full minute. And when he did it was not what she'd expected, he put both his hands on her face and pulled her lips toward her- kissing her fiercely.

She almost gave in. Nothing, ever, had come close to that feeling. No man's kiss had ever felt as perfect as Myrnin's did and never had another pair of lips fitted hers so absolutely, and her stomach twisted in hope and her whole body ached in anticipation of touching him again. They'd always fitted together perfectly, like pieces of a jigsaw, in that moment she was so tempted to just let it happen, just forget about everything and let it be... but she somehow managed to wrench herself free, glaring.

"Don't! Don't you do that to me, Myrnin."

"You're alive! Well, sort of! Oh, my love..." He stepped toward her and with each step forward he took, Saoirse stepped backward.

"Yes, I never died. Pennywell lied to you, I just moved to Scandinavia," she half explained, carefully studying the emotions pass on his face.

"How could you have stayed away for so long? I thought you were dead! For good, I mean. Not vampire dead," he looked angry.

"_You_ betrayed _me, _Myrnin!" Saoirse spat, loosing the little patience she had. Myrnin's face contorted into a mask of outrage and guilt. His lab coat flapped behind him as he paced, raising his arms, then opening his mouth as if to speak and closing it again. A while passed before he could answer.

"That was an accident!"

Saoirse grimaced, "Really? That's the best you come up with? What, you tripped and your tongue fell down Amelie's throat?"

Myrnin at least had the decency to looked ashamed, "She kissed me. I, pushed her off, I did. It was just too late and you'd already seen. I was just shocked and... well... it didn't mean anything."

"She was unbuttoning your shirt by the time I left Myrnin! Maybe it meant nothing to you, Myrnin, but it meant a hell of a lot to me. So, I thank you not to kiss me as though we are still lovers." Myrnin picked up his book again, and hid his face behind it, only his eyes poking over the top, clearly huffing.

"Right. My apologies, well if you'll excuse me I have some work to be doing," he shifted his gaze from her to the book, pretending to read.

Saoirse knew he was pretending because he was holding it upside down. She let it slide though, because for some bizarre reason she felt guilty. The heavy brick of guilt in her stomach intensified as his eyes burned into the page, sad and lonely and some unknown force made _her_ feel accountable. _Her_ who was betrayed by _him._

It wasn't fair. She wanted to run to him, let the last few centuries disappear as she disappeared into his arms, and just tell him that everything would be okay. To forgive him.

But she couldn't.

Instead, she violently kicked over a neat pile of dusty books and then when that didn't provide enough relief, a wooden table leg. It snapped, sending all the lab equipment sliding onto the floor in a cacophony of clangs and smashes, then she stormed out, cursing and crunching on the glass as she left.

She was half a block away before she shrieked in annoyance- sending a poor teenager running toward the nearest house.

Well, that had been a complete waste of time. The visit lasted a whole ten minutes, she hadn't been cool and collected as she wanted- hadn't been able to show Myrnin that she was totally over him.

Which she was.

Definitely.

And they had sorted nothing out.

Everything was just _peachy._

Saoirse walked the streets for hours, well past sunset, thinking and talking to herself. She was convincing herself that the problem was not that she wasn't over Myrnin (because she definitely was), it was just that she was lonely and craving someone and he'c just surprised her with that perfect kiss.

She did have Victor, the Prince of Sweden, but he usually didn't want to talk about such useless things as her feelings. Plus he was human and they could never really understand, especially when they don't know you're undead- really, she was just in it to get some money to live on. Each passing moment made her feel worse and worse.

It was almost sunrise when she crawled into Oliver's bed. He wasn't in it, he probably hadn't slept in it for God only knows how long. But for some reason the idea of staying in her own bed was simply too cold and she wanted to curl up somewhere. She was awake for hours- just staring blankly at the ceiling. No light could filter through Oliver's impressively opaque blinds, so she couldn't tell what time it was when he walked in, just that it was day time according to her tingly vamp senses.

"Lose your way? You're room's down the hall," he said blandly.

Saoirse shrugged, pulling back the blanket a little, "Lay with me?"

Oliver shook his head, "I'm not here to comfort your hurt feelings, Saoirse."

"You used to... I comforted _your_ hurt feelings," she said pathetically. It probably wasn't the right thing to say, Oliver didn't like to be reminded of any sign of weakness he'd shown. Not that he showed them openly like Saoirse, but she'd picked up on his little habits over the years. She could tell by the set of his jaw when he was annoyed. She also knew that if she pleaded enough he would lay with her, but she couldn't bring herself to give another person power over her. She was weak enough as it was so she just stared at him hoping he would be the one to cave.

"Used to," was all he said, pulling the door shut behind him as he left.

Saoirse wanted to cry, some deep, suffocating emotion was swelling in her stomach and travelling to her throat, causing gasping pains.

She was utterly alone and the only person who wanted her, was the only person she refused to have and the only person she needed to gain her freedom.


	4. Guitar Hero

This chapter is for** cookievb123 **for her wonderful review that kicked my butt into action and made me write another few pages of this story. Think I have about 10 chapters now, including the ending, so I'm just filling in the blanks now. So yeah, hope you enjoy the Myrnin in this chappie ;D

I totally forgot to disclaim in the other chapters XD so err, yeah, I don't own anything related to the Morganville series, obviously, else I wouldn't be writing fanfiction for it.

Enjoy y'all.

* * *

><p><strong>4<strong>

When Claire went to Myrnin's for work she was shocked at the state of the lab. The place was an absolute _mess._ Recently Myrnin's lab had been impeccable, clean and shiny and neat, it hadn't looked so bad since the time it was broken into...

One of the lab desks was broken, fallen wonkily to one side with all the equipment smashed. Books and pages littered the floor as well as bottles of chemicals and liquids. Half of the book shelves were pushed over, leaning on the walls, the books deposited at the base and reels and reels of wire and bolts were scattered everywhere.

Well, that was never a good sign. A messy Myrnin was an angry Myrnin and an angry Myrnin was not Claire's favourite person.

"Myrnin?" She called cautiously. He popped his head around from one of the still standing book shelves.

"Ah, Claire. I've been waiting," he said, blinking through a ridiculous pair of brass goggles with a number of dials and buttons on them.

"Are...you okay?" She asked, fearful that he might snap.

"Yes, yes. That," he waved at the mess, "happened yesterday. I was just annoyed at something and I haven't had the time to clean in up yet. But never mind, we have some work to do."

He was acting normal- and for Myrnin that was _weird_. But no snarky comments, no glowing red eyes. Ever so often, though, she would see him thinking from the corner of her eye, his eyes down cast and sad looking.

It was almost home time when she asked, "Myrnin... can I ask you something, about a vamp?"

He looked at her wearily, "You can ask, I won't say I will answer."

"Err... Yesterday at Common Grounds I saw someone. I just wanted to know if she was safe, to be around. You know, that she won't try to murder us all like Bishop... Saoirse?" She said unsure of whether or not she should have kept quiet.

Myrnin stared at her blankly, making her fears start to grow stronger.

"Indeed, it was wise of you to ask, little Claire. I have...met Saoirse before. It was a long time ago, though. I should like to speak with her again . Tell me, will young Michael be playing soon?"

Claire was a little freaked out by that, "Yes, tomorrow night, why?"

"Ah. Because he is talented artist in this town, and Saoirse can't resist talent. Perhaps I shall stop by." He said it casually, too casually which told Claire there was more to it. She didn't pry though, she'd just wait until the gig and see what happened for herself.

* * *

><p>Michael, Saoirse had heard, was talented. And if there was one thing she couldn't pass up it was the chance to see raw talent in action. Heart thumping, awe inspiring, soul changing talent was something she could not pass up. In all her long years she had never ignored a single plea of '<em>oh you should check out her art -shes got talent,' <em>or, _'he's really talented, go see him!' _Never. Even if humans were usually wrong- there was always a tiny chance she'd see the real deal.

So there was no way she was going to miss his little concert at Common Grounds. Oliver was working, and the place was packed full with people (live, pulse throbbing people with so much warm blood...) Saoirse was sitting on the counter trying not to smell said blood and Oliver was trying to scare her off, muttering something about killing her and health and safety. She swung her feet back and forwards, stealing a few glances to the edges of the room. The lights had been dimmed for effect, and the edges of the walls were almost pitch black. All the vampires sat or stood there, still as graves. Saoirse wondered if the humans even knew the vampires were in the room. Probably not.

Amelie of course, was there, surrounded by her mob. She nodded to Saoirse when she caught her looking. Saoirse didn't return it, she faced the small stage again. Michael was just setting up, a pretty goth girl and a small, fragile girl where talking to him and he smiled, nervous.

"Hey, can I get something stronger than coffee?" She wiggled her eyebrows at Oliver, who glared.

"This isn't a bar."

"I wasn't talking about alcohol..." She grinned and Oliver smirked just a little as well.

"I might have something." He said, disappearing into the back and returning with two take away cups. With lids, of course. He passed one to Saoirse and sipped the other.

"Thank you, Oliver. Oh, its starting!" she said excitedly.

Michael introduced himself, transforming into a confident and cool rock star a glint appearing in his eyes as he drank in the scene of the room. He strummed gently on his guitar and the everyone fell silent, the hum of awe hovering like a cloud.

Yes. Michael was talented, Saoirse could feel his heartache, his uncertainty, his sadness and joys as he sung and played. She bathed in the soft notes, letting the emotions wash over her body. She wanted to move, to sway, to live it.

"Dance with me, Oliver?" She asked.

"No. I have my place to keep here, Saoirse. You know that." He said in such a way as though, if it was some other time and some other place he would have said yes. She nodded, dance equalled emotion, emotion equalled weakness in his eyes. He couldn't show that here, especially not with so many humans around.

As if reading her mind, a figure stepped in front of her. Myrnin. He was dressed impeccably in a suit made in the 19th Century, black velvet tail coat, green waist coat, pocket watch and cravat perfectly tied along with a pair of pirate boots pulled over his pinstriped trousers- like a slightly eccentric Victorian gentleman. She had never seen him during those years, but she'd always imagined he'd liked it. The age of the inventors, it was right up his street.

Saoirse said nothing as he bowed, his hand out, "May I ask for this dance, milady?"

"Nope," she said, draining the rest of the blood in her cup.

Myrnin, not one to give up so easily, tried again. "Well, may I tell you that you look exceptionally beautiful this evening?"

Saoirse rolled her eyes, but said, "You may tell me."

"You look exceptionally beautiful this evening." He looked her straight in the eyes, showing his sincerity. She started to smile but caught herself just in time, instead she shrugged. Myrnin looked a little disconcerted at that. But he wasn't done.

"Please, my love, just one dance. We didn't talk much the other day, I think that it would be best to end things on better terms, no?"

Well, he did have a point. _And_ a slow song did start playing. It must have been fate.

"Fine. But just one, and don't get too close," she place her hand out and he took it, swinging her toward him, expertly placing his other hand on her waist. He slowly moved her closer to the edge, where it was darker. A few glances where thrown their way but they were soon forgotten. Myrnin was moving in an old fashioned way that made Saoirse smile inside.

"Here," she placed his other hand on her waist and put hers around his neck and began to sway. "This is 21st Century Texas, after all, not 19th Century London."

Myrnin smirked, "Yes, yes. I do like this. We can be much more closer this way."

Despite herself, she smiled, he was so cute.

A low guttural moan emitted from his lips, and he leaned in to whisper in her ear, "I have dreamt of that smile for centuries. I never thought I would ever see its perfection again."

She fell against his body, feeling the contours of his body against hers, "Myrnin..." she gasped and felt his arms wrap tighter around her.

"No!" she said suddenly, pulling away slightly, "no, that is not what I'm here for Myrnin. I just want to sort it out, so that I can go on with my life."

Myrnin sighed lightly, "what can I do to fix it?"

"If you have to ask that, then there is nothing to fix," she said cryptically. Myrnin smiled sadly.

"Yes, I suppose you are right. Well then, lets talk. What have you done these many years? Do you still paint?" He asked, the song was coming to an end but she continued anyway,

"Of course I do. I could never stop, even if I wanted to. I have been...everywhere. I live in London now, and in Sweden with the Prince," she said the last bit just to annoy him.

"Prince...hmph...well I'm sure that is...pleasant," he said huffing.

Saoirse grinned, "Yes, he is so delightful. And very _rich." _she said it with a knowing hint in her voice, one that Myrnin picked up on.

"Ah. Remember those days? When we'd spend all our money on rubbish and then seduce royalty to get more? So easy, the fools." He reminisced and Saoirse laughed.

"Yes, I'm afraid I still use that trick sometimes, although it is not as much fun these days," she said.

"So... your prince isn't a permanent fixture?" Myrnin asked hopefully.

"No. But don't get your hopes up," she warned.

"Of course not. Our relationship is completely platonic," as he said it, his thumbs starting softly caressing her waist. It was such a tender feeling, she couldn't quite deny him.

"I am sorry, Saoirse," he said softly, honestly and heartbreakingly sad.

"Thank you. That is what I've been waiting for Myrnin. I forgive you, I do, you know I can't hold grudges. But forgiveness is not forgetfulness so I can't be with you. I can't trust you."

Myrnin considered that, "Yes, I suppose you can't. But I will earn it again, I promise you." He pulled away completely, kissed her hand and disappeared.

She touched the spot his lips met and felt her fingers tingle.

Damn it.

She couldn't want that feeling, even though she craved it desperately. In the end, it would only cause them both heartache.

* * *

><p>Claire couldn't help but smile as Michael lit up on stage. His gorgeous smile made her heart beat in pride. Eve squealed next to her, her black pigtails shaking as she jumped in excitement.<p>

"He is just so awesome!" Eve said happily. Shane held Claire in his arms kissing her head.

"Someone's excited."

Claire grinned, enjoying the safe, warm feeling of his touch. A slow song came on, one that Claire recognised from around the house. A movement caught her attention in the corner of the room. Claire looked to the source, but it was dark and she squinted to try to see. She made out two outlines, dancing slowly together. One of them was...

Myrnin?

It must be, she'd recognise him anywhere. She vaguely made out the other person- a smaller, curvier figure with unruly wavy hair...Saoirse.

Claire's eyebrows rose in shock. The two were dancing very close, there was clearly history there. Claire's imagination spun webs of possible explanations. When could that have happened? Where did Ada enter the scene? Were they back together now? They seemed to melt into the darkness, moving further away until Claire could no longer make out even their silhouettes and she snuggled closer to Shane who kissed her cheek.

When Michael's concert was over, Claire, Eve and Shane waited outside for him. It was dark, but there were so many people about they felt safe enough for now.

Michael finally came out, guitar slung over his shoulder and a grin on his face. He looked more human than ever, Claire thought and then dived out of the way as Eve launched herself at Michael. He caught her with vampire reflexes and kissed her wildly making Eve squeal happily.

"Man, that was awesome." Shane said when Michael set Eve down.

"Yeah, really, really awesome," Claire smiled.

Michael looked embarrassed but pleased, "Thanks guys."

They were all about to leave when someone called, "Michael!"

Saoirse glided toward them, her emerald dress flowing in the breeze. Michael stopped, slightly uncomfortable and smiled, "Saoirse, hey."

"Hey, I just wanted to tell you that you were amazing!" The girl said so excitedly that Claire thought she almost passed as human.

"Thank you," he said shyly. Claire noticed Eve staring at Saoirse with weary eyes, then looking to Claire as if to ask, 'is that the new vamp?"

Claire nodded slightly and Shane's hand tightened around hers.

"Where did you get that nail polish?" Saoirse said in a gasp, confusing everyone. Her eyes were fixed on Eve's hands, which rose to be further inspected.

Eve looked shocked, then as though she thought the vamp was crazy and then, deciding she was in earnest, replied, "Topshop."

"In Morganville?" Saoirse asked disbelievingly.

Eve grinned, "Hell no. Online purchase. Its called Gypsy night," and she wiggled her fingers to show it off. The black nail polish was specked with little shards of glitter and two toned patches, looking like a glimmering picture of outer space. It _was_ pretty cool, though Claire didn't think she could pull it off.

"When I go back to London, I am going to buy every bottle they have! And I will send you some...?"

"Eve."

"Eve. For you know, answering and everything. A lot of people here are either extremely shy or mute," Saoirse sighed.

"Or smart." Shane quipped and Saoirse smiled,

"And you are?"

"None of your business," he answered sending Michael a clear 'lets go' look.

Saoirse scrunched her mouth to the side like a child, "whatever. Anyway Michael, I just wanted to say well done and congratulations and all that jazz. Eve, good night, None of your business, it was a pleasure to meet you too," Shane scoffed at that and Saoirse's glance fell on Claire.

It made her nervous, not because she was trying to be intimidating, but because she _wasn't_. She had a perfectly open, friendly smile on her face and Claire didn't know what to do with that.

"I'm Claire," she said, and then without thinking, "I work for Myrnin."

Saoirse's smile dropped and her expression turned blank, "then you must be extremely intelligent or certifiably insane. Or probably both. I hope I will see you around."

Then she walked away, back toward Common Grounds. Oliver was waiting at the door, observing. Saoirse slipped past him, tugging lightly on his shirt and he followed her in.

Weird.

Claire felt stupid for blurting out what she said, but she was curious about her boss's past.

_Curiosity killed the cat, _she thought and shuddered.


	5. Barbarians

Disclaimer: Nothing Morganville related is mine, I just write fanfiction ;)

To cookievb123, thanks for the wonderful review :D To all you silent readers out there (yes, I see you :p), thanks for reading :D

Please let me know if you spot any mistakes- I do my best to proofread but some things keep slipping past me. I may add another chapter later today, we shall see :)

Hope ya'll enjoy it :)

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><p><strong>5<strong>

"Hello?" Saoirse said into her phone, still groggy from her day's sleep.

"Saoirse, sweetheart," a voice started at the other end and she groaned. It was way too early- or late- for Elliot's crap.

"What?" She groaned.

"Am I detecting negativity?" He mocked and she silently mimicked him.

"If you aren't I'd be seriously worried about your judgement. What do you want?" she snapped, feeling agitated.

"Temper, temper. Don't forget who you are talking to..." Elliot's deep crisp voice made her want to vomit, "I need some...followers when I arrive in Morganville, so use your charming skills to get some people interested, hm?"

Saoirse grimaced, she was so not in the mood to go out and be charming. Myrnin's appearance yesterday had knocked her off balance and she'd been annoyed ever since.

"Right, whatever," she mumbled.

"The more powerful, the better. But don't forget the underdogs too, I am such a caring, compassionate person after all," he laughed and she rolled her eyes- he was such an ass.

"Yeah, I get it," she sighed, and he added,

"That is an order, by the way. Oh and I hope you are still working on finding out what system controls that stupid town."

And as if by magic- although Myrnin would probably have some other name for it-, her body seemed to click into place, ready to do whatever was needed.

She hung up, throwing her precious iPhone at the wall, the plastic shattered, spraying bits of metal chips and components over the floor. Today was going to be awful.

She got dressed, carefully picking out her most attractive clothes. Years of living within top social circles had made her aware of trendy fashions and to keep her place, she had to keep up. But she hated it. Hated feeling obliged to wear other people's ideas of beautiful even though she thought half of what she wore was ridiculous. Maybe in the next few decades she would ditch her 'princess' look and go live in an art commune somewhere, wearing anything or nothing and feeling free.

She applied her make up with a steady hand and left Oliver's house. He wasn't in, he was hardly ever in, Saoirse had come to learn.

But he kept refilling the blood in the fridge, which was all Saoirse really needed from him. Though she was itching for the good stuff, the warm, trickling, fresh blood from a human neck...

Perhaps it was the change in diet that was pissing her off.

It was dusk when she went out on the prowl. For followers, of course, not for food. She'd told Amelie she'd control herself for the time she was staying, it couldn't be that hard she'd thought. Only a few more days, when she returned to London there'd be willing donors for her. Of course they assumed that she was just some kind of goth wannabe vamp who got kicks out of drinking blood.

Well, as long as she got the blood she didn't care what they were thinking. Humans, so oblivious to what was right in front of them.

_Now,_ she thought, _where is the best place to find lackeys?_

A bar of course.

By near sunrise Saoirse had charmed her way through at least a dozen vampires. Some made off comments about Amelie's rulership and she played on that, telling them about a vampire she'd heard was coming to town. A powerful one. Others were keen under Amelie's rule and she was gentler with them, sending prodding, seemingly innocent undermining questions.

All they needed was a little bit of doubt.

Not that she was trying to recruit them straight away, no, they needed time to stew in the possibilities and she would give it to them.

She slowly walked back to Oliver's house, feeling dirty and jumpy. Elliot was an ass, a real ass. He was cruel and sadistic and didn't have a single drop of compassion or empathy and she hated being under his thumb, hated having to sell him like he was the best thing since sliced bread. She wondered why he'd decided to come to Morganville. It definitely wasn't his kind of town, and he had turned down Amelie's offer years ago.

Why the sudden change?

Didn't matter, she told herself. All she needed was to do her job, find vamps for him and find out what made Morganville tick, and come his arrival she'd be free and she (impulsively) would fake her death with her current 'friends' and move to a commune or somewhere were she could paint and drink and paint and drink.

She clutched at the peaceful vision until she heard a low cry echoed through the street. Whimpering, like a wounded animal.

It seemed to be emitting from an alley and she didn't hesitate to walk down it. Deep in the corner, someone sat. A human, the smell of blood was ripe and a pulse was throbbing, slow and unsteady. Saoirse crouched down to get a better look.

It was a girl who looked the same age as Saoirse, or a little bit younger. Blood was trickling from her mouth in crimson ribbons, drops falling to the ground with a loud splash that reverberated off the stone walls. She was murmuring, clutching her stomach. Saoirse lifted her hands to see a gaping wound.

She'd been stabbed.

She sighed, damn humans were barbarians, and felt for her phone in her pocket.

It wasn't there and she cursed herself, she'd broken it earlier. Instead she picked the girl up, she'd have to carry her.

But, God, the smell.

It smelt warm, sweet with a small hint of something mildly spicy. And it was so close to her, if she reached down just a little, maybe just a small lick...

The same instance the warm substance touched her tongue someone called,

"Eve!"

Saoirse snapped back, regaining her control and looking down. The girl was the same as Michael's girl friend, except she had no make up on and she looked naturally pale, her lips drained of colour.

Saoirse shook herself guiltily and rushed forward with the girl.

Michael was frantically calling Eve's name and Claire and Shane were further down the street.

"Michael," Saoirse called and he stopped, taking in the situation and then growling, glaring at her.

"Hey! It wasn't me, she'd been stabbed. You think I have nothing better to do that stab humans? If I had time to stab them, I'd have time to eat them. I was just walking by when I heard her."

He considered it for a second and then nodded, "hurry." Saoirse transferred Eve into his arms. By that time Claire and Shane reached them. Michael quickly put Eve in the car and the other two clambered in after him and he raced off, toward the hospital Saoirse assumed.

She stood for a moment, guiltily revelling in the taste of fresh blood, then getting angry, why should she feel guilty? Aren't there rules? Inedible humans shouldn't be out at dark or something?

She couldn't really believe that though, because everywhere but Morganville, lots of people went out after dark. It was natural. Morganville was messed up.

She made it to Oliver's house without killing anyone and pulled out a bottle of blood and stuck it in the microwave. When it dinged, she poured it into the glass, admiring the thick redness. She went to her temporary room and kicked the door open, jumping at the sight of someone sitting on her bed.

Amelie.

Saoirse stared blankly, Amelie returned it.

Awkward.

"Well, what are you doing here?" Saoirse said eventually, sipping her drink.

"I am having some problems," Amelie began, looking cool and confident in her icy blue suit.

"Good for you," Saoirse snapped, she really was not in the mood.

"With Myrnin," she went on and Saoirse shrugged.

"Good for him then,"

Amelie growled, "do not push me, Saoirse. I have been lenient with you because I wronged you. I will not continue to let you speak to me with your cheek."

Something burned deep in Saoirse- hate. Was there any need to be such a bitch?

"What. Do. You. Want?" she said through her teeth.

"Myrnin. He is neglecting his duties, says he is on strike. Thanks to you."

Saoirse half grinned at that. Myrnin on strike, how cute.

"Well, maybe you should give him a raise. Better holidays perhaps," Saoirse sat on an iron desk in the corner of the room, setting her warm glass down beside her. The room she was staying in was a pale blue with hard wooden floors and a king-sized bed with an intricate black iron wrought headboard and silver sheets.

"Do you know what that means? Myrnin not doing what needs done will cause chaos here. Chaos here means violence. People will die, human and vampires alike. There is a fine balance, and it shall be tipped if the boundaries aren't kept in place."

Saoirse simply stared, "what makes you think I care whether or not you all die?"

Amelie sent her a look, as if she was seeing through her soul. "Saoirse, you are sloppy, impulsive and defiant. But you are not cold blooded."

Saoirse wanted to poke her in the eye with a stake and show her how cold blooded she could be, "Well, what does his highness demand?"

Amelie's mouth quirked up on one side, "a date."

Saoirse actually laughed at that. Never once had Saoirse and Myrnin been on a _date. _They'd just sort of fell together, began. There was no set meeting times.

Then again, she had been about to be burnt at the stake, so there hadn't been much time.

"A date? Is he having a laugh? I'm surprised he even knows what that is."

Amelie nodded, "indeed. He informed me he saw it on a Television show. Dinner, movie, good night kiss, if he's been pleasant. Will you agree?"

Saoirse thought about it. Her mind instantly said 'no!' but her gut was faltering, thinking 'well... it could be interesting.' Plus it would give her an excuse to creep closer to him, to find out the secrets of Morganville. Surely the town genius would know the system.

"You know, Myrnin's not cold blooded either, what makes you think he'd actually go through with his threat?" Saoirse reasoned.

Amelie sighed, "You are right, I don't believe he would do it either, but he has been quite defiant lately and I will not take that chance."

While she was thinking, Amelie said, "It is only a...date. There are no commitments, no one is asking you to forgive him. Simply give an old, lonely man a happy evening. And you will go, or I will have to reconsider your temporary residence in Morganville."

Saoirse glared. Well, if asking doesn't work, threats always do the trick, and she sighed. "Fine. But as long as he understands- it is only a friend date. Tell him I'll call around tomorrow."

Amelie stood gracefully, nodding, "Thank you."

Saoirse watched her leave then jumped onto her bed. A date... with Myrnin... that was so... weird.

She'd been on hundreds of dates, but none of them with her vampire maker/ex lover who cheated on her with the person who'd just pimped him out. Still, what would Myrnin's idea of a date be?

Probably, she'd be dead by the end of it. There was no way it would actually be dinner and a movie, Myrnin couldn't sit still enough to watch a movie and where would they eat?

She'd never eat his cooking, and did restaurants open late in Morganville? Was it against the code?

Who knew...

She fell asleep, dreaming of mad scientists slicing open their arms and letting the blood flow freely into a huge crimson stream, a lone wolf stepping toward it, licking the thick substance over and over and over and over.


	6. Blood and Chocolate

**Disclaimer: Sadly Morganville doesn't belong to me, that's why I'm writing fanfiction.**

**Cookievb123****, since you asked so nicely, here is the next chapter :p Thank you for your awesome review :D**

**To all ye anons, hope you enjoy it as well, thanks for reading :)**

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><p><strong>6<strong>

"Claire, we will have to finish early today, I have plans." Myrnin said stoutly.

Claire looked up from the beaker she was working in. Never had Myrnin said they'd have to finish early and never had he said he had _plans_. Myrnin didn't have plans, he just _did_.

"Err. Okay. What you have planned?" she asked, uncertain if she wanted to know.

He looked at her coyly then grinned madly, "I have a date!"

Claire choked on her own breath. Myrnin...date. Nope it didn't work.

"I err... yay?" she replied in shock.

"Yay indeed. In fact I may require your assistance. It has been such a long time since I've had to woo someone. I'm not sure I remember." Myrnin looked confused, not a look Claire was used to seeing on his genius face.

"Well, err, who is the girl?" She asked, having the feeling she already knew the answer.

"Saoirse," he said, slipping off his lab coat.

"She seems...nice." Odd was more like it, Claire felt slightly off balance around her. Unsure of how much she could relax.

"Nice? Perhaps. But that is not her top quality. We met a long time ago, you know. I saw a painting she'd done and I'd went to look for her. Of course, I thought she was a man, women so rarely painted in those days. Imagine my surprise when the artist I found was a pretty girl. Plus, the painting was two women cutting off a man's head. I wish I had it now..."

Claire nodded, beheadings weren't her cup of tea, but she could definitely see Myrnin enjoying them. Perhaps she shouldn't relax around Saoirse after all. She was happy though, that Myrnin was in such a good mood. Lately with the death of his computer brain Ada, and its much less complacent replacement, Frank, he'd been off.

"So... what do vampires do on dates?" she asked truly curious.

"Nothing. That is... they don't usually date. I built a TV the other day and tuned it in to a channel playing this dramatic show about youngsters. And they were dating, I thought it would be fun to try." He started walking in and out of the other room, bringing a variety of clothes. "So, tell me, what is supposed to happen in dates?"

Claire tried to explain the point of a date, to get to know someone. But Myrnin insisted he knew Saoirse perfectly, even if they hadn't spoken in a few hundred years. Claire thought he was pushing it, really, but she wasn't going to argue.

"Then there is no point other than to enjoy each other's company. Surely you did that centuries ago?"

Myrnin nodded, "Of course, but we didn't make a ceremony of it. It simply was. This dating thing is strange indeed, but Saoirse has lived out there," he waved vaguely, "perhaps she has grown to expect such oddities."

Claire laughed, "yeah, but I'm sure you will have fun. Where are you taking her?"

Myrnin grinned, "the cemetery."

* * *

><p>Saoirse used Oliver's house phone to call Sweden, something she wasn't planning on telling him any time soon.<p>

"Hei?" A cool voice said from the other end. The prince.

"Hello, Vic." Saoirse said cheerfully.

"Ah, Saoirse?" He said unsure, which pissed her off. He must have another girl on the side. Was there some male gene that said 'cheat on Saoirse'?

"Yes. Its me. We need to talk."

The conversation only took five minutes and then Saoirse was single once again. She had been planning to tell him to his face, but hey, technology. She was rather bored of him lately anyway.

Then she got ready for her date with Myrnin. The thought was so ridiculous that she smiled at it every time. But what to wear? Who knows what Myrnin would think of as a date? Dinner and a movie? Unlikely.

She'd probably need to run at some point, so flats and maybe nice jeans. She mulled over the dilemma for a while before showering and getting ready, slipping into her jeans and flats, a nice, form fitting top. And a Fedora, she loved her hats.

Remembering the way to Myrnin's lair was easy, and Saoirse soon found herself pattering down the steps to his lab.

"What is your plan, Spooky?" Saoirse used his old nickname as she turned into the lab. Myrnin was standing, writing something in a black journal. He looked extraordinarily hot in a pair of black jeans and a black shirt, a pocket watch chain hung from his left jeans pocket and she could see a flashing belt around his hips. It read 'mmm Pi.' in neon green letters.

"No plan Saoirse. I'm completely innocent of course," he said seriously and Saoirse rolled her eyes.

"I'm sure. What are you playing at sending Amelie after me, all for a date?"

"Well, you wouldn't have come if I simply asked." That was true.

"Not the point. This changes nothing, I'm doing it simply because you forced my hand."

Myrnin smiled, "The reason doesn't matter, what matters is that you agreed. Now, let us go," He held his arm out for her, like a Victorian gentleman and she reluctantly linked hers to him.

"Just relax, Saoirse. Lets have one night of enjoyment before you leave again, hm?" Myrnin said, making total sense and she wanted to kick him for it.

"Fine... What have you concocted for our date?" She asked with a silly grin.

Myrnin returned it, "Picnic! Like old times!"

Saoirse used to love eating outside, on the grass, under the moonlight with Myrnin at her side, either kissing her neck playfully or muttering theories, or philosophising about life in general. Thinking of having another one made her stomach clench in hope and fear.

"Sounds fun," she said honestly, allowing herself a moment of leaning closer to him. Taking advantage of her moment of weakness, Myrnin wrapped his arm around her waist and gently rubbed his thumb up and down.

She didn't have the will to pull away, she just enjoyed the sensation and walked with him until they came to an old graveyard, huge black iron gates guarded the way. Pale tombstones glowed in the moonlight, willow branches hanging over them like dark, broken arms. Myrnin opened the gate and bowed to her, "This way, milady."

They curved around a stone path until they reached the peak of a small hill.

"Close your eyes! No, wait," Myrnin stood behind her, placing his hands over her eyes and gently leading the way. After a minute he let go, whispering, "open your eyes."

She did, and almost gasped in surprise. There were no gravestones here, just beautiful willows swaying gently, and hundreds and hundreds of candles burned softly, glowing ethereally in the dark. In the centre a deep red blanket was laid out, and a basket with bottles of red substance and little boxes of food sat to the side.

It was beautiful. The moon was full and silvery, meeting the golden light of the candles in a symphony of magical light.

"Myrnin..."

"Do you like it? I thought you might, you always enjoyed such things. Do you?" he asked so hopefully that she hugged him.

"It is perfect." Myrnin held her in his arms for what seemed like eternity, until she pulled herself from her stupor. "Let's eat, shall we?"

They walked through the field of candles toward the blanket. It was bigger than she'd thought and she sat down on it. Myrnin sat beside her and started poking through the basket, pulling out two crystal glasses and an old wine bottle filled with blood, as well as a little purple box.

He poured the blood and handed her a glass, "not the same as fresh from the veins, but it is still good."

Saoirse nodded, "how do you do it? I've been here only a few days and I'm craving fresh blood..."

Myrnin looked up, not at all guilty, "well, honestly I haven't completely been able to stop. But, as with all things, one learns."

"I suppose," she sipped the sweet substance, "well, I guess we should catch up. Tell me everything you've done since we last met."

Myrnin had done a lot. But Saoirse expected nothing less, his mind could not be sated and he was constantly searching for new challenges. When Myrnin was done, she started her own story.

"...And then I was in Iceland, where I came across Oliver. We shacked up together for a few decades," Saoirse explained to Myrnin. The pair were laying down now at opposite ends, staring up to the stars. Myrnin sat up.

"Oliver? You 'shacked up' with Oliver? Does that mean that you..."

"No. We just lived together, why?" Saoirse grinned. Myrnin was cute when he was jealous.

"He's not right for you, you know." Myrnin sniffed.

"And how would you know?" Saoirse was suddenly mildly irritated by his presumptions.

Myrnin stared down at her from his sitting position, "Because. He is much too bland and serious. I bet he can never make you laugh or smile. He's so dull."

Saoirse snorted, "Really? He makes me laugh all the time. The trick is not to take him as serious as he takes himself."

Myrnin huffed, opening a small box. "Chocolate?"

Saoirse took one, "mmm. Blood and chocolate. Is there any better combination?"

Myrnin grinned mischievously, "Blood and chocolate _and sex_."

How could she argue with that?

"True, but if that's what you are holding out for, you'd be mistaken."

"So. Do I pass? For the date?" Myrnin said, leaning way too close.

"Well. I can honestly say I've never been on a date like this," she put her hand on his chest and pushed him further away.

He sighed, "Will we ever be together again? You do not know how I have ached for you since you left. And the vengeance I took on Pennywell." He grinned manically at the thought, "and all the while, you were alive. Ha! Well I hated him from the moment I saw him anyway. And he tried to burn you as a witch so I hated him more."

"Nope. We shan't. I thought, with you, that we were two halves of a whole... but we weren't. We aren't. We're all alone, really. What's the point in trying to pretend otherwise?"

Myrnin's eyebrows shot up, "Oh dear. What a bleak view. Is that my fault? You sound like Schopenhaur, I may have caused the same effect on him."

"Yep." Saoirse said unkindly.

"Well, perhaps you will change your mind again." He lay down again, this time beside her, and held her hand.

"Unlikely, but never mind that. You know, on my way here, I was planning ways to kill you," Saoirse said, holding tightly to him.

Myrnin chuckled, "what stopped you?"

"Well, your ass looked so damn good in those black jeans, I just knew I couldn't let that go to waste."

"Gee, anyone would think you loved me just for my looks," he replied.

Saoirse sat up suddenly, "I _don't love you" _she hissed.

Myrnin sighed, "I know. One can hope, can't they?" And he shifted closer to her, his face hovering dangerously close to her own. With a sudden lurch, she wrapped her legs around his waist and swung them both around so his back was against the ground and she straddled him tauntingly. She bent down, holding his hands in her own and kissed him slowly on the each cheek, his forehead, the tip of his nose then she hovered over his lips, teasing him with the closeness and then, as they were about to touch, she brought her lips to his ear and whispered.

"Only if they want to be disappointed."

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><p>Sorry if its maybe not quite as juicy as ya'll might have liked, I just wanted a scene with Myrnin and Saoirse just getting used to each other's company again, but trust me, there will be some saucy scenes coming up soon :p<p> 


	7. Honey or Vinegar

**Disclaimer: Morganville is not mine and I'm not pretending it is. This story is for fun only :)**

**Cookie, I'm really glad you liked it! Thank you for the review, it made me a very happy bunny- with fangs ;)  
><strong>

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><p><strong>7<strong>

The date hadn't ended with a kiss, to Myrnin's dismay, and Saoirse had went back to Oliver's house which had pissed Myrnin off to no end. Her mind reeled with possibilities. Myrnin was still after her which was causing some deep knot to form in her chest, though she was steadily ignoring it, thinking instead how she could use it to her advantage. Elliot wanted to know the magic -or whatever it was, that kept Morganville running, and Saoirse knew Myrnin would tell her, if she played her cards right. Then she could pass the information on to Elliot, he'd release her from the stupid blood bond he'd placed on her, and she could leave Morganville forever, leave Elliot behind and try to forget she'd ever met him. And she'd be alone again, no Oliver and no Myrnin.

Just Saoirse.

And that was what she wanted, right?

It was okay to use Myrnin like she would, because he'd betrayed her, right?

The click of the door echoed through the house and Saoirse could hear it from her temporary bedroom. Oliver was home. Really, she should have been out looking for lackeys for Elliot but she was doing so well with them already that she decided to take a break. Tiptoeing, she went to his room where he sat, taking off his brown leather boots, it was an oddly human gesture.

"What?" He said without turning around.

"Nothing. Just... you know, hey."

Oliver stopped, turned and gave her a look of disbelief, "Hey? Really?"

Ignoring his glare, she perched herself on the edge of his bed, "You smell like a hospital."

"I was just there," he said, clearly annoyed.

"Why?"

"Not that its your business, but Eve was stabbed, we are trying to find out by whom. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Saoirse shook her head- honestly she'd forgotten about the little goth girl, but she was glad to hear she was still alive, "Sadly, no. I did find her though, didn't pick up on any scents I knew. Considering I've been here a whole three days, that's not surprising."

Oliver sighed, his jaw was set tightly and Saoirse's mouth formed an 'o' in surprise, "Olly. You _care_ for her! Well, I never thought I'd see the day that Olly actually liked a puny human."

"Don't call me Olly," was all he said, confirming her suspicions.

"Woahhh, so we talking _like_ like, or just you know, like?"

"Eve was my employee, that is all, now go away," he snarled, but Saoirse was past the point of caring.

"Awww, Olly, you big softie! I won-"

In a flash he had pinned her to the wall, his hand tightly around her neck. It wasn't painful, and she could snap free if she tried but that would just make him more angry. Instead, she decided to wait until the fire in his eyes burnt out.

"Don't. Push. Me." He growled, his nose suddenly very close to her own. He bent toward her neck- as if to bite her and she screamed, "No!" and kicked him hard in the abdomen, knocking him backwards.

He didn't retaliate. He just stared, deathly still, a knowing look plastered on his face.

"How. How did you let that happen?" Oliver demanded. He was younger than her, by a few centuries, and so in theory he shouldn't be able to bully her, but his knowing stare made her uncomfortable. No point in lying when he knows the truth, she reasoned.

"I let my guard down, okay? For one freakin' second when I thought I was in love, and that _he_ was in love with me. I was an idiot, I'll admit it, and I've been paying the price by being his damn slave ever since. So go on, look at me like I'm pathetic, shout at me for being stupid because there is nothing you can say or think that I haven't already screamed at myself!" She was screaming now, letting her rage pore out. It didn't make her feel any better, if possible it made her worse. Now not only was she weak, pathetic and stupid but also unstable and out of control.

Great.

Just _great._

Too afraid to speak again, she just pushed his dark blinds back and stared into the night- not really seeing anything at all.

"You've always been a fool," Oliver said, and Saoirse couldn't even disagree, "You'd think after hundreds of years you'd stop trying to trust people. It only gets you hurt in the end. Its Elliot, isn't it? I could smell him on you, faint, but there. He hasn't been around in a while. What are you going to do?"

"Nothing. Its almost faded and he is going to release me after he gets here anyway. Then I'm out of here. Stop it."

Oliver tilted his head slightly, "Stop what?"

"Stop staring at me like you are disappointed. Like I've committed treason."

Oliver continued staring, "I'm not disappointed," then he turned and left, just like that, leaving her to wallow.

* * *

><p>"Its not Jason, he's still under vamp security."<p>

"Who else is on our evil-human list?"

"Kim?"

"Still in lockdown. Plus, lets not forget, just because she wasn't bit, doesn't mean it wasn't a vamp. Bishop slashed Doug without draining him."

Claire, Shane and Michael sat zombie like around Eve's hospital bed. Everything smelt sterile and depressing and the cold overhead lights hurt Claire's head. They'd been there all day, brainstorming and waiting for Eve to wake up. She didn't.

They'd gotten no where though, they had no leads and Eve hadn't woken to tell them anything. Claire sighed, leaning back into Shane's arms and rubbed her temples. Today sucked. Eve being hurt sucked. Everything _sucked._

She had no idea who could've done that to Eve, or even why Eve was out when it was so dark. Sure, Oliver had called round, but he'd been useless too.

"Are we sure Saoirse isn't involved?" Shane asked for the hundredth time. Claire shrugged,

"I don't know. It doesn't seem to fit. I mean, if it had been her, why would she have brought Eve to us? We hadn't seen her and she could have escaped easily enough."

"Maybe she was just trying to throw us off her tracks," Shane responded.

"Yeah, maybe," Claire said, glancing at Michael. He hadn't moved, not an inch, his face was eerily blank and directed at Eve's, as if by will alone he could make her okay. There was no point in trying to get him to leave, Claire and Shane had been trying all day, he simply refused or ignored them.

"I'm going to go have a shower, try and clear my mind and maybe I'll think of something. Call me if she wakes up, straight away," Claire said and stood, kissed Shane softly and glanced at Michael who still hadn't moved. She shuffled out into the dull halls, the long white walls almost buzzing from the horrid lights and making her head pound.

It was still light outside, though the sky was a dull grey haze that looked ominous. The nights were getting darker quicker as autumn crept over them, its amber blanket twisting through the streets of Morganville just as the cool breeze did and Claire pulled her jacket closer to her body. On the way home to the Glass house, she passed the alley where it had happened. Her heart raced as she thought of her best friend, of how much pain Eve must have felt. How long had she been laying there waiting? Did she think she would die? Did she give up hope of being rescued?

Claire would find out who did it. She would, and when she did, they would pay.

Saoirse paced up and down Oliver's living room. It was odd how human it looked, she thought, its pale green walls, shiny wooden floors and comfy grey sofa. There was even a plant, squished right into the corner. Of course, the plant was purely to hide the fake wall behind it that probably had weapons stashed in it.

Her time was running out, she wanted to get out of Morganville and the quickest way was to get Elliot what he wanted. _Something_ kept Morganville running. The way they controlled those invisible barriers at the edges of the town and Saoirse was sure that they must have some sort of surveillance. It all connected up to some sort of system, but how did it work? Who was behind it?

Myrnin, probably, it only made sense to have the genius handle something so complex. But, knowing Myrnin, it was probably some sort of crazy thing- something that ran on sweat, or blood, or cookies, or bobble-heads. It could be anything which made her job a million times harder. She'd have to make him tell her, it was the only way. But how?

_Well, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. _


	8. Explosives

Disclaimer: Morganville is, sadly, not mine :(

Cookievb123, thank you once again for your wonderful review! As for Eve's attacker... well I'm sorry to say that I am going to keep you in suspense because -muahahahha- I'm evil like that :p

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><p><strong>8<strong>

"Spooky!" Saoirse called, peeking her head around the doorway into his lab. The lab was tidy again, stuffed full of books and equipment, but everything was piled up in neat islands around the room. There was no answer but she went in anyway, examining things. She grabbed a glass jar from the table, and shook it a little. A large black spider rattled around, then shuttled about in panic.

"Oops, didn't mean to scare you spider-dude. You really need a bigger jar though, let me find you one..."

She didn't find one, instead she took a tray and put a clear glass bowl over the top.

"You can live in there, much more space. I'll get you some grass too, Oh wait, you'll need air... hmm."

By the time she'd finished redecorating the spider's new pad, drilled air holes included, Myrnin still hadn't appeared.

"In you go, spider-dude," she shook the spider under the glass bowl then let it fall onto the tray, then dropped in some bugs through the air hole.

"Spooky!" She tried calling again but still no answer, "well I guess I can just have a nosy about then... see if I can find anything." Maybe something to help her with her task for Elliot. Her search began at the farthest side of the room, a wall that was covered by bookshelves. One by one she pulled them out, flicking through and then placing them back as before. It didn't take long with her vampire speed, but it was boring and pretty soon her focus faded and she went to the much more exciting lab tables. After a sneaky glance around, she grabbed a bunch of different bottles filled with chemicals. The labels were a mess, some in English, some Latin, others decorated with just alchemical symbols that she vaguely recognised from spending so much time with Myrnin all those years ago. A wicked grin crossed her face and she searched around for some beakers. She started pouring in some clear chemical. Then a greenish one, and a disgusting smelling pink one and then blue-

_BANG._

It exploded, a little puff of grey smoke and an oddly pleasant smell drifting up toward her face and she smiled wider. This was fun. She took another beaker and another chemical, but before she could add anything else, someone grabbed her wrist and spun her round.

"Myrnin!" She said breathlessly. His face was unreadable but very, very close. "I was looking for you... but you weren't here. I thought I'd wait."

Still no answer, his dark eyes were locked on her pale blues and it made her squirm a little.

"Sorry, I mean, I shouldn't have touched your things. I just... well after I made a new house for the spider then I tried to find something to read but...well, _boring_, all science books. So I thought I'd experiment and it exploded but I didn't mean it and I know I shouldn't have so please say something to make me stop rambling its very uncomfortable."

He was still quiet. Saoirse bit her lip, what was wrong? Did he know why she was really searching? How could he?

"Myr...?" Her voice was small and uncertain. Slowly, his hand rose toward her face and his thumb wiped something off her nose then his hand slid over her shoulder, and settled on her hip.

"His name is Bob," he purred and Saoirse felt her insides burn. He was so _hot_. And that voice, _God, it was irresistible, _

"B-Bob. The spider dude?" She answered shakily feeling sort of off balance despite the fact she was now leaning up against the wooden table.

Myrnin nodded, "you smell...different."

Saoirse broke from the temporary trance and jumped away. There was no way he could find out what Elliot had done, it would completely ruin her plans and she'd be embarrassed for the rest of her life. Considering she was immortal, that would really suck.

"Smell different how? I have changed a lot since all those years ago Myrnin, you smell different to me too." It was a lie, he smelt exactly the same, silkily woodsy with a hint of something metallic. It was purely seductive and completely unique.

"Really?" He asked guardedly.

"Really," Saoirse answered as serious as she could and hoped he believed her. He simply shrugged, and grinned slightly. "So... where have you been, Spooky? I forgot to give you something at our _date._"

Myrnin waved vaguely, "Out. Business, you know? A surprise? I wonder what it could be!" He smirked.

"I think you already know," Saoirse said and stepped toward him and planted a small kiss on his lips. "Good night kiss."

She didn't move, and Myrnin's eyes travelled downwards in a typical male fashion- not that she minded. In fact, she welcomed it. The outfit she wore was designed specially for him- a purple mesh peasant-style top that you could _almost_ see through and that hung off her shoulders, and her hair was pulled up so there was plenty of neck _and_ cleavage on show, and tight jeans that hugged her curves in all the right places. She chose the top because of its old style, the type of thing that would drag up memories from centuries past when they were still together, still in love. When she was sure he'd gotten a good enough view, she went to step backwards. He grabbed her around the waist, holding her still and she smirked inwardly.

The plan was working!

Next he would kiss her, and she'd resist at first, then give in and he'd think he'd won. Then, after they were comfortable, she'd ask him about Morganville and he'd tell her. He always told her- well, he used to. And then she'd be free.

But his hurt expression flashed across her mind as she planned inwardly. How would he look when he found out she used him? And he would- Elliot would tell him just for fun. Would he feel betrayed? Angry?

Well, it would be no more betrayed or angry than she felt after he kissed Amelie. Maybe he'd even hate her, like she hated him.

Like she'd _thought_ she hated him.

He was leaning toward her.

She _had_ hated him. Once. For a fleeting moment. But it wasn't real, you can't hate someone you love so desperately, so completely. Even after hundreds of years.

His lips were almost touching hers.

It had just _hurt_. Just pure agony that burned through her veins and suffocated her from the inside out.

But he was here, now. It could go back to as it was, when they were together. All she had to do was stop him from kissing her, tell him the truth and let his genius mind come up with a plan to get rid of her bond, or to let it wear out. He'd wait. She knew he'd wait. If she just stopped the-

His lips pressed against hers, gentle at first then harder as he wrapped his arms tighter around her and their bodies slid together perfectly, as they always had, as they always would. The kiss was fierce and fast and passionate. He grabbed her and lifted her onto the edge of one of the desks and she wrapped her legs around his hips. His long, cold fingers fiddled with her sleeve and he started pulling it down.

"No!" Saoirse cried, removing her legs and using it to kick him away from her. "No, Myr, I can't." She wasn't sure what had stopped her. It had been her plan, but once he'd held her so tightly she'd forgotten everything- Elliot, the bond, her plan, _everything._

Myrnin's eyes were still filled with hunger but he nodded, slipping his hands into the pockets of his black jeans.

"Sorry," she added, awkwardly.

"No matter," he said and she instantly glared at him.

"No matter? What's _that_ supposed to mean? It didn't matter to you?"

Myrnin glanced around the room, "Err... would you like to share some Pop Tarts with me? They're strawberry...Or we could play scrabble!"

Saoirse shook her head in exasperation, but agreed, "Yes, I would like to share some Pop Tarts with you. But only because they are strawberry. Scrabble sounds good as well."

"Excellent!" He said, grinning.

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><p><em>Well, they call him a genius for a reason.<em>

_How is she? x_

Claire sent the text to Shane as she rubbed her hair with a towel. The shower had helped her mind a little, as though she'd vacummed away layers of dust and everything was a little bit clearer and her whole body felt revitalised. The phone buzzed on the table and she snatched at it, panicking for a moment that the news would be bad.

_Still out. Get sum rest. Luv u. _Was Shane's reply. She sighed, knowing rest would be a good idea. Once Eve woke up, Claire would need all the energy she could muster to find the perpetrator. Still, before she could have a nap, she tidied the house, lifting dirty plates and empty take-away cartons from the living room and washed the dishes. Picking up some of her textbooks she thought of her classes, she hadn't been in a few days and it was so unlike her, though she couldn't help but smile as she though how living in the Glass House had changed her. A year ago, she never would have missed a class. Now she was missing a week.

The door bell made her jump in surprise, it didn't ring often. She checked through the peep hole and and gaped in surprise.

Saoirse was at her door, still as a statue, in a revealing plum coloured top and black fedora hat, staring off into the distance as if she expected Claire to take a while to answer the door.

Well, she was right. Claire bit her lip, to answer or not to answer? Saoirse had done nothing to them, though they hadn't ruled her out in Eve's injury, and Claire _was_ still curious about who she really was.

And if she was involved in what happened to Eve, this would be the best chance to find out, and it wasn't quite dark yet. She grabbed a few stakes and hid them quickly in a few places in the hall and living room, then unlatched the door and swung it open.

"Hey..." Claire said unsure and Saoirse's frozen statue face stretched to life with a grin.

"Oh, Claire! Hello, how are you?" Saoirse said and Claire nodded awkwardly. She was not used vampire guests and polite etiquette was slipping from her mind.

"I err... good," Claire said lamely.

"Right, well. I don't know if this," Saoirse waved vaguely to them both, " is the done thing in Morganville. But you know, I just wanted to know how your friend Eve was doing? I'd have asked Oliver but I can't find him and I didn't want to show up in the hospital..."

It was well past the polite stage to invite her in, but Claire wasn't sure she could trust her yet, "Eve is... still unconscious but stable. Thanks for asking."

Saoirse shrugged, looking concerned. "Well, I'm glad, I hope she'll recover soon. I assume Amelie is on the hunt for the attacker?"

Claire grimaced at the founders name, the founder had refused point blank to help look for whoever stabbed Eve- claiming that it would have to wait until Eve woke up. Plus, that was the humans' job, despite the fact that Eve was a Neutral and had helped Amelie umpteen times. "She's busy."

Saoirse shook her head, "Of course she is. Precious Amelie doesn't have time for her non-dead town residents, why am I not surprised..."

Claire didn't know how to feel about that. She liked Amelie, really, she did, but sometimes Claire found herself frustrated at Amelie's methods and lack of care for her best friend. She looked to the sky, it was the dull greyish purple of dusk and Claire didn't care how rude it was, but she was closing the door in Saoirse's face once the darkness fell.

"Listen, Claire," Saoirse said as though she was getting to the real point of her visit. "You work with Myrnin, right?"

"Right. I'm his assistant," Claire answered truthfully.

"Is he... okay?"

Woah.

That was one hell of a question. Was Myrnin _okay?_ At what? Alchemy? Sandwhich making? Being sane?

Saoirse must have read the confused expression on Claire's face for she added, "Feeling, I mean. Like, has he been feeling okay... you know... happy."

There was a pained expression on Saoirse's face and for a second Claire glimpsed beneath the snow-white death pallor, the expensive clothes, the carefully calculated expressions and she witnessed Saoirse's human side. The side that was worried for Claire's crazy boss in a way no one else had ever been- like she wanted to wrap him in a cocoon and save him from the pain of the world.

She couldn't lie to that.

"Honestly," Claire began, "he is okay, I think. I mean, he's a little lonely I think, and probably bored sometimes, but he gets by."

Saoirse nodded, her face unreadable. She smiled softly at Claire, like somehow she'd come to a conclusion, one the Claire wanted to know.

"Thanks, Claire," Saoirse said and looked up, "Well, its getting dark so I'd better leave you in peace. If there's anything I can do for Eve, just name it, anything at all. G'night."

She slipped away into the street- inhumanly fast but not quite top vamp speed, and disappeared around the corner to the right before Claire could even mutter a farewell.

Claire groaned and slammed the door shut, leaning against the other side. She hadn't asked her anything. She hadn't even invited her in despite the fact that Saoirse was perhaps the only vampire that had ever even bothered with the door-knocking formality. But that was what made her on edge around the redheaded vamp- she was so good at being human that Claire couldn't decide if she was pretending.

With a sense of dread and anticipation Claire climbed the Glass House stairs and on a whim slipped into Eve's bedroom. The black curtains were closed and rows and rows of candles lined the room, the melted wax suspended off the edges like a snapshot in time. Claire picked up a deep red rose petal from the floor. It curled at the edges, the shrivelling brown of death seeping through the beautiful colour.

_I'll find him Eve. I promise._ Claire vowed to herself, and it was not avow she was going to break.

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><p>Thanks for reading :D Reviews are appreciated and lovingly fed cupcakes :D<p> 


	9. Dirt and Robots

**Disclaimer: I don't own (or pretend to own) anything to do with the Morganville series :)**

**So here is chapter 9! Its super long because it was originally 9 and 10, but I wanted more to happen so I combined them!**

**Thanks to Cookie for her wonderful reviews (I'm lovingly feeding those reviews cupcakes, as promised)! **

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><p><strong>9<strong>

Saoirse glanced around having an eerie feeling she was being watched. No one was about though and she muttered something about being paranoid. The bar she was entering smelt of stale blood and ash, its windows so grimy and greasy that she could barely make out what was on the other side. It wasn't a socialising bar, not the type that Saoirse would visit for company or an evening out. Suspicious groups of male vampires gathered around cheap plastic tables and shooting her much to clean and sophisticated form dirty looks. She just beamed at them as she past as if she was delighted to see them.

"Saoirse," voice called from the bar and the body attached to it waved her over.

"Gregory! Hello, how are you?" she asked politely.

He simply grunted in response and took a slug of the thick red substance in his glass. Even the glasses looked dusty and streaky and utterly disgusting. Gregory was one of the vampires Saoirse had spoken to before, one who was disenchanted with Amelie's ruling. He was big, tall and thick as a bear with gristly brown hair and stubble adorning his large, mean face. He seemed to be stuffed into his shirt and between his wide cheeks and bushy eyebrows was a pair of dark, beady eyes. Vampirism did not suit him.

"I've been thinking about your offer," he said gruffly. Actually, she hadn't offered him anything, she'd simply told him that Elliot was coming to town and hinted that he might have been a better alternative to Amelie's iron fist rule. If he'd took that as an offer to join Elliot, then all the better for her.

"And?" Saoirse said, eyeing the blood in his glass. One had to drink a lot more of the packaged blood than the real stuff and Saoirse was hungry, but there was no way she would drink from those disgusting glasses if she didn't have to.

"I'd like to meet him. I know some others too, when will he be around?"

Saoirse grinned, happy that he'd done some of her work for her.

Elliot would have to come to Morganville soon, to meet Amelie and do whatever it was he wanted to do.

"He should be here in a week or so, shall I tell him you're interested?" Saoirse asked charmingly though Gregory seemed to ignore it. He nodded,

"Yeah. And for your sake he better not be a let down."

Saoirse grimaced at that, who the hell did he think he was? She could snap his neck in half a second without trying and he dared threaten her?

Well, people assume you are weak when you are a lackey and that's pretty much what she was. She couldn't muster up a fake smile after that so she simply hopped off her stool and left. The fresh air was a relief from the stench of the bar. The tiny street was shrouded in darkness, the old, dilapidated buildings looking like ghosts as she glided past them. The moon was bright in the navy sky, casting shimmering rays over the damaged roofs and glinting in the broken windows. Now what should she do? Going back to Myrnin's would be overkill, right? But she had a sudden longing to see his face, to drink him in before it was too late and she left, never to see him again. She twisted around a corner, instinctively slipping around the glare of a lonely, orange street lamp. She had that prickly feeling she was being watched again, but she ignored it and went on.

Myrnin was in his lab working on some huge metal contraption that vaguely resembled a giant computer chip. Wires poked out in every direction and little vials of a light purple liquid littered the table. Everything smelt like oil and excitement.

"Whatscha building?" She whispered into his ear. He didn't move, but his body tensed and he smirked.

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you..."

Saoirse pushed some reels of copper wire out of the way and hopped onto the wooden lab desk, kicking her legs back and forth,

"You already killed me," she grinned.

"Well, in that case... Its for my robot," Myrnin's face lit up in excitement as if a robot was the best thing ever, "It will look like a turtle. I think I'll call him Fyrnin."

Saoirse snorted and Myrnin pulled off his goggles and dropped the pliers onto the table.

"What?"

"Fyrnin? Really?"

Myrnin looked offended, "I think Fyrnin is an exceptional name. And it will be an exceptional robot."

Saoirse softened a little when their eyes met. His dark ones seemed endless, two black holes that sucked her in and she humoured him, "Of course it will be exceptional if you've made it. And Fyrnin is a nice name, though its got nothing on _Myrnin_."

He chuckled, "What brings you to my humble abode, my love?"

Saoirse jumped off the table and placed her hand on Myrnin's white lab coat and slipped it of his shoulders. He was wearing a green waistcoat with nothing beneath and a pair of black cargo pants that reached mid shin and on his feet were pink bunny slippers with fangs flopping out of them. She laughed, fully and loudly and Myrnin grabbed her waist.

"Such a beautiful sound," he said leaning in close.

Saoirse shook her head and looked away to avoid his gaze that was too powerful. Amelie had given him a pretty damn big lab. It was a huge cavernous room with two doors, one to the left and one to the back that she'd never been through. Two-thirds of the room was set up with towering bookshelves, all connected by two metal reels that a moving ladder was attached to. Saoirse fought the urge to jump on the ladder and swing about. The other part of the room had cupboards and lab tables filled with shining equipment. Being underground, there was no windows, but odd candles and random lamps and lights were spread throughout giving everything an orange glow and flickering gently in a soothing way.

"What do you want, Saoirse?" Myrnin asked after a few moments of silence.

"World peace. And a type writer. And to see you, should I go?" She asked, maybe he didn't actually care that much for her anymore, maybe he was just having fun and now she was getting in his way...

"Are you crazy? You should never go, yet you always do. Stay."

She sat cross-legged on an old, threadbare mat. Myrnin cleared up most of his supplies, not bothering to roll the wire but just stuffing it in some drawers his pink bunny slippers' ears flopping as he walked. Once he was finished he crouched down in front of her, "I meant, what do you want in Morganville? I know you were sent here to set things up for Elliot but that just doesn't sit right, you are some young yuppy to be bossed around like that."

Saoirse shifted back from him a little, afraid he might smell the faint trace of Elliot on her, "Elliot and I... we had an arrangement is all. I do this for him, and he gives me something in return. Simple business transaction."

Myrnin didn't believe her, he was much to smart for that, but he nodded, "well, what do you want from _me_ then?"

Damnit.

Stupid genius, why did he have to figure her out?

She took a moment to consider her options, tell or not to tell? Maybe she could get him to tell her what she wanted to know without revealing why...

"What would make you think I wanted anything from you?" She asked defensively. He was still crouching, almost as though he was coiled up and ready to strike and Saoirse found it oddly attractive, the dangerous glint in his eyes took her breath away.

"You were looking through my books, not to read, you were looking for _something._ And you haven't forgiven me for Amelie, I can see the pain in your eyes every time you look at me, your eyes wander to my lips. What are you thinking, my love? Do you wonder how her kiss compares to yours? Did I enjoy it more? You are pushing down your anger, I know you too well to believe you could forgive me without even making me hurt a little. So. What is it you want from me, I'll give it to you- as my repentance."

Saoirse's fists tightened, her nails almost drawing blood from her own palms. It was true. All of it, even though she hadn't realised it, as the words poured from his lips each gripping her heart harder than the last. How many times had she wondered if Myrnin had enjoyed Amelie more? How many times had she drown in the thought that she, Saoirse, was not good enough for the only person who would ever hold her heart? She felt the horrid, retching of tears swelling in her eyes and closing over her throat.

No. She would not cry. Not in front of him- she was stronger than that at least.

"If I wondered that once, I've learnt to ignore it now. And that pain will _always_ be there Myrnin. Always. And you'll really tell me? No questions asked?" She said, still pushing back tears and trying to deal with the almalgamation of emotions churning in her stomach.

Myrnin nodded, "no questions."

"You realise how dangerous that is?" She said, almost not believing it.

"Of course I do. I'm not an idiot. But I have to make it up to you somehow, don't I?"

Saoirse shrugged, "You don't _have_ to."

Myrnin just stared at her, "if I don't you'll never forgive me and we'll never get past that damn incident. So, ask."

Saoirse took a moment to consider his offer. His face was blank and unreadable but something in his eyes was pleading and she looked away. All those books, all that equipment somehow made her feel more confident, and she made her decision.

"I need to know how Morganville is run. How you keep those barriers, how you control everything. Will you tell me?"

* * *

><p>"And so Frank controls <em>everything?"<em> Saoirse gasped, truly impressed. Myrnin and herself had been laying on there backs on the old rug in his lab, side by side staring at the boring beige ceiling while he told her about Frank the brain computer, a swelling pride growing in her chest. Myrnin had made some truly amazing things, but that, that was beyond her wildest imagination. He was the most talented person she'd ever met and he was _hers_.

No, she scolded herself.

He used to be hers. Now he was just an ex that she was too pathetic to really get over.

"Yep. The portals, the monitoring, the surveillance, the boarders, everything," Myrnin said basking in his own glory a little and Saoirse couldn't blame him.

"Woah... you really outdid yourself this time, Spooky. That is... wow," she said twisting her head to the side to face him. He did the same and grinned, "I'm insulted you would expect anything less."

"Guess I've forgotten how amazing you are in all those years apart," she said sarcastically and rolled her eyes.

Myrnin grinned and then, suddenly, his face fell solemnly. "Saoirse, my love," She couldn't quite bring herself to tell him not to call her his love, it just sounded so seductive falling from his lips.

"Yes?"

"Now that I've told you what most of the vampires who actually live in Morganville don't know, I must ask a favour from you," his face was serious and kind of scary and Saoirse nodded, not quite sure she could agree to whatever it was. "For your own safety, keep this information secret."

Great. That was exactly what she wanted to hear. Keep it a secret? She was finding out purely to tell someone else!

But Myrnin's eyes looked so concerned and pleading for her to agree so she took a deep breath in and did something she really didn't mean to do- she lied.

"I won't tell anyone, Spooky."

Myrnin nodded, "Promise me."

Was he trying to kill her from the inside out? It was one thing to lie, it was another to break a promise- she _hated_ breaking promises. Deep down she could still feel Elliot's presence in her, like an invisible wire wrapped around each cell in her body, tugging her in a direction she didn't want to go. She couldn't live like that any more, she just couldn't.

"Okay, Myr, I promise."

* * *

><p>Claire grabbed a seat toward the counter in Common Grounds. The café had been busy, humming with energy and chit chat, but people were emptying out now that the sun was dulling in the sky. Autumn brought with it earlier nights and Claire was dreading winter coming when the sun would set even before some of her late classes were over. The instrumental music was faint in the background and Claire was surprised she hadn't even noticed it before. Oliver was pulling shots of dark expresso, his nice guy smile plastered on his face as he passed shiny white cups of coffee to the server. Claire took a deep breath and went up to the counter when there was a lull in the line and she called Oliver over.<p>

He didn't look happy about it as he said, "What?"

Claire tried to sound sure of herself when she said, "I need your help."

"With what?"

"Finding out what happened with Eve," she said, determined.

Oliver nodded, "She is a neutral, that means that by law the vampires with help within reason, but there is nothing we can do until she wakes up."

That just wasn't good enough for Claire, "But, there has to be something!"

Oliver grimaced and glared at her making her insides squirm. That was the type of stare a lion might give you before it snaps at your neck.

"Do you have any bright ideas?"

She shook her head dejectedly, wishing more than anything she had a single clue.

"Then we will just have to wait," Oliver turned his back to her and walked away, leaving her feeling more frustrated than ever. She was just contemplating returning to the hospital when her phone rang.

"Hello?" she muttered when she answered.

"You're late!" Myrnin called from the other side.

Claire sighed, "I wasn't supposed to be working today."

"Well, you are now. Come come," Myrnin demanded.

"But I was going to look for Eve's attacker," she whined.

"Now," was all he said before hanging up. Well, it could have been worse, she thought, he didn't even shout.

It was a dangerous time to be out, the verge between light and dark, and although Claire had her Neutral status pin stuck right on the front of her jacket, she didn't feel safe. And so she began to run.

* * *

><p>Claire entered the room in a burst of speed, panting and gasping and Saoirse could feel the throb of her heartbeat from across the room, baiting her. This whole non eating human business was getting on her nerves and she glared at no one in particular. Myrnin didn't even look up.<p>

"Claire. Frank is causing problems. Stop him before I have to hurt someone," Myrnin snarled and Saoirse grinned, looking up from her book. He was cute when angered. Claire's face lit up, as if a light bulb had went switched on somewhere in her mind.

"Frank!" She called and then added hastily, "come here, please."

"What?" A strange electronic voice called out. It seemed t emit from the speakers on the walls. _Freaky_.

"I need your help," Claire said breathlessly and Myrnin turned around, looking crazy with his blow torch and bunny slippers.

"No, _I_ require him. Did you forget little Claire? Not like you," Myrnin said, annoyed.

Claire shook her head, "Please do whatever Myrnin needs done. And then, can you help me with some surveillance?"

Then something appeared, something Saoirse had never witnessed in all her years. It was an image, strangely 2D, black and white and flickering like static. It was some kind of man, a tough biker and though he looked solid, Saoirse could still see Myrnin through him. A sudden urge to try and walk through the figure overtook her and she did.

Frank did not like that.

Cursing loudly and fiercely, the image flickered and then vanished and Saoirse muttered a quiet 'oops'.

"Claire!" Myrnin almost shouted and the girl jumped, "_You_ are _my_ assistant and Frank is not to be used for your every whim. Now, I will go and see if removing some of his wires won't make him talk, then I'll return,"

Myrnin pulled back the old rug and slipped down the trap door, stalking off into the darkness.

Saoirse's eyebrows shot up at his outburst, "Is he always that delightful?"

"Its been hard for him since Ada's been gone. Frank isn't so nice, he's not in love with him so he's a lot more resistant." Claire said off handedly, picking up bits of lab equipment.

"Ada?" Saoirse asked confused. Who was Ada?

Claire looked wide eyed, like she'd let something slip. "Er... I thought Myrnin told you everything since you obviously know Frank..."

"So did I," Saoirse said, trying to hide her anger. "Oh well, who is Ada?"

Claire looked nervous, "I shouldn't say..."

Saoirse probed, "Com'on Claire. We girls have to stick together. Myrnin won't be annoyed at you. I promise. I'll kill him if he is."

Claire bit her lip, doubtful, "Well. Just as Myrnin started to get sick, he had an assistant, Ada. They... fell for each other but he started to loose it and one day he lost control and killed her. He tried to keep her alive by wiring her brain to a computer and feeding it blood."

Saoirse gaped. Sure, the brain computer should have been a shock, but she already knew that. What shocked her was that Myrnin had been in love with another woman and neglected to mention it. She couldn't ignore the twinge of jealousy, but she was smart enough to try and push it down.

She took a deep breath, "How was Myrnin sick?"

"The uh... disease. The one the vamp's got... they started to go insane, loose their control. But we cured it." Claire admitted, she'd already said too much, why not go the whole way.

"I guess he forgot to mention that too..." Saoirse growled.

"Who forgot what?" Myrnin grinned clearly in a much better mood, and came in from the hallway.

"Claire, you'd better go now," Saoirse warned and the girl scampered out. Smart. No way she wanted to be around for what was coming next.

"I guess you forgot to tell me about dear Ada and your disease?" Saoirse said lightly, but her eyes burned.

Myrnin looked guilty, "Oh... that... well..."

"I thought you were smarter than that. I mean, did you think that would stay hidden?" Saoirse realised how hypocritical she was being- she still hadn't told him about Elliot, but she was way too angry to care and besides, she argued with herself, her situation was different.

"I thought you were dead! It had been centuries..." He argued and Saoirse stomped her foot.

"I'm not angry about that Myrnin. I'm not so selfish I would want you to pine me forever, well, I am, but I could get over that. I'm pissed that you didn't tell me!"

Myrnin shrugged, "I didn't wish to hurt your feelings."

"Well, you've hurt a lot more than that. Including that tiny smidgen of affection I was starting to feel for you," that was a total lie, she'd never stop being in love with him, even if she had hated him, "So I hope you're happy." And for effect she picked Fyrnin's giant computer chip and threw it harshly at the wall that crumbled and metal bits and dusty plaster fell to the ground. And then she stormed out.

Oliver, surprisingly, was in when she stomped into his living room. He raised his eyebrows in question when she entered.

"That. Pig!" She growled, kicking the leather couch. Oliver glared at her, but she didn't care.

"Nice day at the asylum?" He quipped. Saoirse nearly smiled, but she was too angry.

"He is so infuriating!"

Oliver sighed, "What did he do?"

Saoirse plopped down beside him and explained it. Oliver, nodded, an almost bored look on his face.

"Its hardly that big of a deal," was his advice.

"It is!" she argued, "time and time again he says trust me, yet he keeps breaking it."

Oliver stared silently for a moment, "Well you can look at it that way, or you can look at it like this; he cares so much he lied to protect you." And then because that was much too emotional for him, he added, "Idiot."

Saoirse considered it. Put like that it was almost sweet and she yearned to believe it, despite the fact Myrnin had said the same thing, Oliver's explanation made much more sense. Damn Oliver for being so...logical. Damn Myrnin for being sweet- though he had totally been trying to save himself.

"Yeah, maybe. Thanks Olly."

"Don't call me Olly."

* * *

><p>Hope you enjoyed it :D if you have some time, I'd love a review :D Thanks for reading!<p> 


	10. Deadly Nightshade

**Disclaimer: Morganville= not mine!**

**Okay so here is another chapter! :D I'm going on holiday tomorrow for a few weeks so I don't know when I'll be able to update next, but I'll try. **

**Thanks again to Cookie for her awesome review :D and thanks to anyone who has read this far, reviews are super appreciated :D**

* * *

><p><strong>11<strong>

"Well. Can Elliot count on you? He only wants the best, and I'd hate to have to let him down," Saoirse cooed, massaging the vamp's ego. He was built with huge rippling muscles and had a shaved head. He nodded dumbly and she smiled.

"Great! Trust me, you will not be disappointed." She left after that, checking the name off her list. Only a few more then she'd go back to Myrnin's. Not all of the vampires on her list agreed to meet Elliot for a chance of pledging loyalty to him, but most of them did. Saoirse felt dirty, like she always did doing Elliot's work, and stopped at Oliver's for a shower before heading to Myrnin's lair.

Myrnin was, of course, in. He sat on a huge striped arm chair and was wearing his bunny slippers.

Saoirse plucked the book from his hands and threw it to the floor.

"You don't have to hide anything from me. I won't get upset about what happened in the past. I won't taint Ada's memory by getting jealous and asking about her, although I really want to, okay? I've only a few days left here, lets enjoy it together. Got anything to smoke?"

Myrnin jumped from his chair, and planted a kiss on her lips which she ignored. It was wrong, she knew, to try and compete with a dead woman but Saoirse wanted to be better than Ada had ever been, to be Myrnin's _true_ love. She could accept that he had loved someone else, as long as he loved her more. She'd just been point blank refusing to believe that Amelie even existed because she shuddered at the thought of comparing herself to _Perfect Princess Amelie._

"Mmm..." he muttered, "I'm afraid I've no cigars or cigarettes. I do have a Belladonna plant though, care to try it?"

Saoirse nodded, why not?

Myrnin clipped the leaves of the deadly nightshade, the purple flowers were in full bloom, beautiful and deadly and Saoirse made herself comfortable, pulling off her socks and shoes, hanging her hat on the corner of the library ladders. Then she pulled out her chopsticks and tossed them to the side allowing her waist length locks fall loose and free over her shoulders. Something had been bothering her since her little chat with Claire, something she'd said about how Myrnin had gone insane and she plucked up some courage and spoke.

"Myrnin. I'm so sorry,"

Myrnin spun toward her, obviously expecting some sort of confession. When she gave none, he asked, "For what?"

How could she explain that she was sorry that he had had to go through such a thing?

"Well," she began, "because you were sick. It addled your mind, right? And I know that you have always been _eccentric _but to actually go insane? To feel your mind, the thing that is most precious to you, slipping through your fingers and not being able to stop it? I am sorry for you. I won't lie and pretend I care about everyone else, but you, Myrnin, to you your mind is everything and I know how awful that must have felt for you. I just wish I could have helped in some way. Or that it hadn't happened to you at all."

Myrnin froze for a moment, staring right at her and she met his gaze, biting her lip and hoping he could feel the sincerity. No matter what had happened or what could ever happen, she had never hated him to the point that she would wish his worst fear upon him. And loosing his mind had always been his worst fear. Killing him, hurting him, using him, yes, that she could do, but not _that_. Not taking away his mind. They were frozen in their gaze, each of their thoughts swirling dangerously close to the surface. After what felt like eternity, he sat beside her on the old sofa, placed his hand to her neck and rested his forehead on her own. The sweet scent of the the cigarette wafted between them, and he closed his eyes painfully.

"Thank you," was all he said and she nodded, knowing he'd understood and by the tightness on his hand on her neck, he'd truly appreciated it. She wondered vaguely if anyone else had bothered to dwell on how he'd felt- probably not, it wasn't the done thing for vampires, but Saoirse had never been able to abide by the unwritten rules of any society- alive or dead.

They sat in silence for a while, bathing in each other's deep thoughts until Myrnin handed her the makeshift cigarette in a beautiful jade qulleazaire that pulled her back to the 1920s, and she inhaled a large amount of smoke. It was sweet and heavy and made her feel more awake.

"Nice," she said, grinning at him.

God, he was so hot, she thought suddenly. "Myrnin," she said seriously, feeling suddenly much more cheerful and giddy, "Since I wasn't around, I have to ask. Did you ever get..._close, _to Oscar Wilde? 'cos I can tell you, you and him? One of my top five fantasies."

Myrnin grinned, pleased, "I'm in your top 5 fantasies? Excellent. I shall leave that to your imagination though..."

She laughed. "Right now, you're the number 1 fantasy."

He stared at her with such a raw lust she shuddered. In a moment of pure spontaneity, she pulled him toward her, took the cigarette from it's emerald stick and snuffed it on the corner between his shoulder and neck . The skin cackled and smoked and Myrnin's eyes burned crimson at the contact.

He pounced at her, his lips kissing her manically on the mouth, the cheek, the neck, everywhere. She moaned as he nibbled gently on her weak spot, the corner between her shoulder and neck. He pulled her hips toward him and she tauntingly ground them against him, making him emit a deep growl and damp bursts of breath spilt over her sensitive skin, cool and seductive, somewhere deep in her core burning and sending shudders up and down her spine..

Off slipped her Marc Jacobs Tshirt. Then his buttoned shirt and pirate boots. Saoirse tangled her hands in his silky hair, gripping him closer to her as he slowly made a trail of kisses from her neck to her chest, to her stomach and then tugged off her skirt as he kissed and gently bit her hips- bursts of raw pleasure sending electric shocks to her groin, pulling at her garter belt and stockings.

"Myrnin..." she moaned, letting herself be lost to his touch.

* * *

><p>It was day when she awoke. There was no light filtering into Myrnin's dark bedroom, only tiny specks of dust falling softly to the floor or whirling in some imagined breeze, but she felt it in her bones- the sun was up. Her head was resting in the nook between his chest and shoulder. It fitted perfectly there. Myrnin's arm was wrapped around her waist, resting on her hip, almost as pale as her milk white skin. She traced the outlines of Myrnin's muscles, so taut and defined and perfect. She wanted to remember them forever.<p>

Myrnin was asleep, looking peaceful and innocent, not a combination one usually saw in him and a black top hat perched on his head, like he'd stayed in the same position all night. She grinned remembering _that _memory.

Saoirse was surprised. She'd slept almost every day since she'd come to Morganville. Vampires didn't need that much sleep, it came only when they were extremely tired or injured or at peace. She liked it though, the dreams, the 'almost there' sensation she got when sleeping. She didn't move for fear of waking Myrnin from his slumber so she just enjoyed the feeling of his skin on hers.

Why had she given in?

It hadn't even been a week. How could he do that to her in a single week?

Then again, she'd never been able to stay angry at him. It was easy to say she was pissed when he wasn't around, but when his big, dark eyes stared passionately at her, how could she refuse?

But now it was going to be so much harder to leave and so much harder to hand over the information about super computer Frank.

Myrnin woke with a yawn, instantly pulling her closer which made her body tingle all the way to her toes in happiness.

"Morning, my love," he whispered and she kissed his chest.

"Morning to you too, Spooky."

Myrnin grinned at that, it was made even cuter by his still sleep laden eyes, "You never lost your accent. I'm glad."

"Yeah, I can't be bothered trying to change it when I don't need to," she admitted.

"How'd I do?" Myrnin said and she chuckled. Of course he'd remember her rating scheme.

"11," she said and Myrnin grinned proudly.

"As it is based on a scale of 10, I can say I'm happy with that."

"So am I," Saoirse stretched out, "Lets get breakfast. Brunch. Whatever."

* * *

><p>Claire entered the lab in a hurry. She was over an hour late, not that Myrnin minded usually. But he'd been up and down recently, she didn't want him to be angry again.<p>

"Myrnin sorry I'm la-" She paused in shock and amusement. As she rounded the corner she saw Myrnin and Saoirse. Myrnin was circling his hips frantically trying to keep up a pink and green hulahoop. Soairse had one as well, but she seemed confident in her abilities.

"Yeah! Just like that. You got it Spooky! High five," Myrnin grinned manically and put his hand out to be slapped, but the hoop fell as he did so and he looked distressed. Saoirse chuckled, "S'okay. Didn't take me too long to master it, and I didn't have a beautiful sexy, female to teach me."

Myrnin seemed to notice Claire for the first time.

"Oh! Claire, would you like a go?"

Claire shook her head, not sure if she should leave or not. Her backpack was heavy and she'd had a crap day, lots of run ins with Monica. She just wanted to go home and crash into Shane's arms and try and figure something out about Eve's attacker.

"Who'd have thought a hoop would be so...fun." Myrnin seemed ecstatically happy today, as did Saoirse. Claire did not want to know what they'd done to put those smiles on their faces and she tried to ignore the fact that Myrnin's yesterday clothes were strewn across the floor.

"Are we...uh... working today?" She asked, hoping Myrnin would send her off.

Her prayers were answered, "No, no. Run along, little one." Claire happily said 'cya' and left, heading toward the Glass house. It was almost dusk so she'd have to hurry.

The smell of warm, spicy chilli reached her nose as soon as the door opened and she drifted into the kitchen where she knew Shane would be. He was barefoot, stirring the crock pot and yawning. When he saw Claire he stopped what he was doing and kissed her, making her shiver all the way to her toes.

"You're early," he said between kisses, "not that I'm complaining."

"Yeah, I got the day off work, Myrnin and Saoirse were hanging out," she grinned.

Shane shared it, "The vamp from the gig? The crazy dude gets laid...very weird," but he smiled as if relieved.

Claire nodded, "totally, but whatever. Chilli smells good."

Shane ladled some into bowls for them both and they sat down at the table. Slowly Claire's bad mood was lifting from her shoulders as Shane made her laugh and smile. Life could be good, even with vamps ruling the town.

* * *

><p>"I'll arrive in Morganville tomorrow, everything in place?" Elliot demanded rather than asked.<p>

Saoirse fought back the urge to tell him to go fuck himself, "Yeah. A position on Amelie's wider council, a few followers and even a nice house, which let me tell you, is not easy to find here."

"You've done well," he said, like she was a child.

Saoirse felt her blood boil within her veins, "Yeah. Just unbind me from you and we're even."

Elliot let out a barking laugh, "if we were even, you would have been able to stop me from taking you."

She punched the wall, putting a hole through the plastering. She did not want to remember how she'd let her guard down and just exactly were that had gotten her.

"That was a mistake, trusting you. One I will never make again," she spat and hung up. She stomped about furiously for a few minutes until Oliver entered.

"I'm surprised you aren't at the lab," he said then, noticing the hole in his wall, glared.

"I had to make a phone call. I'll pay for that," she said deadpan. Oliver stared at her for a long moment, almost making her uncomfortable. But the empty feeling taking over her stomach wouldn't allow it.

"What is going on with you?" Oliver asked. That was as nice as Oliver got and Saoirse recognised it, he was actually concerned about her.

But how could she tell him? He knew how weak she'd been, but she couldn't tell him that she was about to hand over the secrets of his town to a psychotic vampire who probably wanted to kill them all. She didn't want them all to die- for any of them to even get hurt, but she couldn't stop herself from talking, not if Elliot demanded it. Then Oliver would hate her and Myrnin would hate her, even Claire would hate her.

Everyone would.

Being owned rarely happened. Sure, vampires usually allied themselves to a more powerful vamp for protection, but they usually weren't _owned_ like she was. And even then, it only happened to younger vampires, one's who were weaker and had less experience.

She felt ashamed to admit it to herself, she couldn't even fathom telling Myrnin.

"Nothing," she replied and Oliver simply stared, knowing she was lying and knowing pushing her would show his concern too much.

"Fine. I want that fixed before you leave." He left and Saoirse felt even worse than before. Putting himself out there wasn't something Oliver did often and she'd just shoved it back in his face.

Could she do anything right any more?

As if reading her mind, her new phone started humming in her pocket. She answered it with a weak, 'hm?'

"Hello my sweet!" Myrnin's voice said excitedly from the other end.

"Oh. Myrnin, hey."

"You're late. I've got something for you, hurry hurry!"

Saoirse grimaced. No, she couldn't go through that again, "Sorry Myrnin. I can't make it today, tomorrow I'm leaving, I'll stop by before I go to say goodbye."

The line was silent for a minute and Saoirse had to check he hadn't hung up.

"But... no." Was all he said and Saoirse's heart broke a little. She couldn't go and see him, she should have never given in in the first place. Now it would be so much harder to leave.

"I'm sorry, Spooky."

She hung up before he could argue then went to her room to mope.

Eternal life sucked.

* * *

><p>:D<p> 


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